


Partners, Friends...Something More

by AutumnRayne



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Because we all know that's going to be cannon, Chloe slaps Lucifer, F/M, Long Road Ahead, Lots of not very good feels, Lucifer returns from Las Vegas, Obligatory winter finale fic, Working on the 'marries Candy' theory, post 2x13
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-15 00:08:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 46,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10546676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutumnRayne/pseuds/AutumnRayne
Summary: Post 2x13  Lucifer returns from Las Vegas, married to Candy.  Hearts are broken, relationships are torn apart, new friendships are forged.  But as with all things, the situation gets much worse before it gets better.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy. So this has been scratching at my head since the winter finale and if I don't get it out, I think I'm going to drive myself crazy. Thank you for stopping by!

**Day 1**

The storm had been brewing for nearly two weeks, growing in ferocity as time anxiously moved forward.  One small cloud, light grey and saddened yet fluffy as it should be, had become many clouds, black and angry with a brutal sharpness to their edges.  The lightning and the thunder fought relentlessly with one another, battling for dominance of the air until the clatter as beyond deafening.  The wind whipped in every direction, threatening to obliterate anything that dared cross its path.  And the rain…the rain fell from every surface, the drops collecting until they became a strongly churning ocean of loathing.

He had waited, patiently, through that first week, tracking the storm’s progress, learning about it, watching it grow.  Within the swirling chaos, he had found exactly what he had expected to find.  He had found reason and right, he had found purpose.  Then near the middle of the second week, the storm had reached its full potential and had seemed in danger of exploding.  Control had started to wane as the intended target of the storm’s fury had yet to manifest and he had feared the innocent would receive the brunt of the torrent.

Still, he had continued to wait, unable to do anything more than monitor the storm.  He had wandered aimlessly around the city earlier in the afternoon, absently pondering the situation.  He had even prayed, _prayed_ for a sign, for a glimpse of the storm’s focus, for the deserved outcome.  Contrary to his expectation, the sign had come, and rather quickly after his request.  Not by words, not by a vision, but by a change in the atmosphere, a heavy electrical charge that had ripped through the air.  His skin had tingled in response but he had quickly pushed aside the sensation.  There had been another feeling telling him the storm had sensed the change as well.  Then deep within his being, he had felt a calling, stronger than anything he had experienced before.  He had known in that moment what he needed to do.

As always the case, the answer to his prayers had ushered in a flood of questions.  The storm, he knew, would swallow these questions, would add them to the spinning mass of rage and animosity, and grow to a degree he couldn’t fathom.  Yet he had found himself unable to care about how much suffering the storm’s recipient would endure.  His only concern had been his new mission, a mission to restore control to the storm, to guide it to its rightful path.  To spare the innocent.  After having heard all he needed to hear to accomplish fulfillment of this duty, he had surrendered his own questions, his own curiosities, his own anger, and had placed himself in the presence of the storm’s creator.

“Good evening, Chloe.”  Blue eyes, void of their usual spark, lifted from their focus on a stack of papers to meet his gaze.  The light from the small lamp on her desk highlighted the arrant hairs that refused to stay tucked into a messily thrown together bun on the back of her head.  It also accentuated the pallid nature of her skin, the grey circles under her eyes.  The storm she was producing, the restraint she was attempting to maintain, were depleting her energy.

“Amenadiel.”  The offered greeting was quiet, the smile small yet genuine.  “Hey, I’m sorry I haven’t returned your call from this morning.  It’s just…triple homicide,” she said, her shoulders rising in a weak shrug.

“No worries,” he said with a smile.  “May I?” he asked, gesturing towards the empty chair next to her desk.

“Of course.”  She gently tapped the top of her pen on the desk as he settled himself.  “I still haven’t heard from Lucifer,” she started.  “I’m sorry, Amenadiel, but I can’t…I can’t do it anymore.”  Her eyes began to fill with tears as she shook her head.  “I can’t continue looking for him.”  He reached forward, placing a comforting hand on hers, stilling the tapping of her pen.

“I understand,” he assured her.  “I do.  And I sincerely appreciate everything you’ve done to look for him.  Your assistance in the matter, however, is no longer needed.”  Chloe’s eyes widened, her breath hitched in her throat and the gathering tears tumbled from her lashes.

“No,” she whispered.  “Tell me he’s not…”

“Oh.  No.  No, no.”  He chuckled gently and softly squeezed her hand.  “I’m sorry, Chloe.  That’s not what I meant.  Lucifer is not dead.”  Her shoulders dropped as relief washed over her.  “No, he’s alive and well.”  A small push, he thought.  “And back in Los Angeles.”  He felt the tension immediately seize her body, watched her features harden to hide every hint of emotion.

“Is he?”  She pulled her hand away and turned her attention to the papers on her desk.

“Yes,” he replied, nodding slowly.

“Good,” she started with obviously and painfully feigned care.  “Good.  You…you talked to him?”

“Yeah.  I was at his penthouse just an hour ago.”

“You know, it’s, uh, it’s late.”  Chloe shook her head and pushed her chair away from the desk as she stood.  “I should really get home and relieve the babysitter.”  Amenadiel had been keeping careful tabs on the detective, watching over her since Lucifer’s disappearance and he knew the young child was with her father, not at her mother’s house under the care of a sitter.  Yet it was a lie he would not call out.  He could not deter the storm from its path.

“Of course.”  He stood as she pulled the jacket from the back of her chair and pushed her arms through the sleeves.  As she moved to his side, she kept her eyes on the floor.

“I’m happy that you’ve found your brother, Amenadiel,” she said, placing a gentle hand on his forearm.  He slipped his hands into the pockets of his black jeans as he watched her walk towards the elevator.  Once she was inside and the doors had fully closed, he turned his eyes to the floor and nodded as a small, sad smile graced his lips.  He had come with an unfortunate agenda, one that did not include giving the detective details of Lucifer’s return.  She deserved to know, but more so, she deserved means through which to vent her anger.  Wiping the tears from his eyes, he looked at the elevator again.  He couldn’t protect his brother from the forthcoming storm, and, truthfully, he didn’t want to.

**Lucifer**

Chloe stood as still as possible, concentrating on keeping her breathing calm and controlled as the elevator ascended to the building’s top floor, to  Lucifer’s penthouse.  Tightly closing her eyes, she hoped to prevent the release of the tears she had been holding back over the previous two weeks.  They had housed sadness and hurt, confusion and uncertainty, yet in the scant thirty minutes since learning of Lucifer’s return to the city, they seemed to hold more anger than any other emotion.

Maybe she shouldn’t have wandered by Lux, maybe she should have gone home, forgotten about Lucifer the way it appeared he had forgotten about her.  A loud voice scratched at the back of Chloe’s thoughts, reminding her that Lucifer, after all, had a reputation.  It was not one simply blown out of proportion.  She had witnessed the actual manifestation herself.  The Brittanys, Dr. Martin, the countless men and women that floated through Lux, the deceased victims of a recent case, the near literal parade she had called to the station nearly three weeks earlier, all examples of the fast and loose life he led.  Red flags never hidden from her.

Chloe refused to believe she had succumbed to his game.  She knew how he played.  His behavior, his flirting, his innuendoes had never phased her.  How could she have fallen for something that didn’t affect her?  No, what she felt for him was not some trick of the mind, not some promise of nothing more than physical pleasure.  She wanted to hear him say that something beyond his control had caused his absence.  She wanted to hear him say that he never meant to leave her.

Maybe Lucifer was scared.  _She_ was.  So much had happened in the twenty-four hours since they had embraced outside of the college, since they had looked into each other’s eyes and confirmed what was building between them was more than a passing fling.  The unnamed connection they shared had been nearly lost with her poisoning and seemingly impending death.  The feelings, the discovery had teetered on the edge of destruction before having an opportunity to develop.

Chloe wanted, _needed_ to run straight into Lucifer’s arms, to fall to the floor tangled with him, to have him kiss away all of her insecurities, all of her doubts about their relationship.  She needed to see the wonder in his eyes as she had during their “moment” in the penthouse, after their kiss on the beach.  They were a team, a _good_ team.  They were _real_.

Weren’t they?

And he had never lied to her, _would_ never lie to her.

Would he?

The elevator doors opened and Chloe found herself steps into Lucifer’s penthouse before she realized she had moved.  The room was dark, lit only by the yellow lights of the liquor wall.  The white sheets that had covered the furniture were gone, each chair and sofa, each table, the piano, all sitting proudly on display as though they were never hidden, as though Lucifer’s disappearance had been a dream.  Chloe moved farther into the penthouse towards the piano.  She released a tense sigh as her fingers traced the sculpted edge of the instrument.  It hadn’t been a dream.  A nightmare, but not a dream.

Chloe drew a shattered breath and willed the building tears to stop.  Whatever his reasons for leaving, Lucifer deserved a rather bitter piece of her mind, deserved to hear just how pathetically selfish he had been, leaving without a word while she recovered in the hospital.  But her walls were up, and they were high.  She would not cry in front of him, she would not scream.  She would not let her emotions get the better of the things she had to say.  If the signs had been right, if she had been nothing more than a game to him, then he did not deserve the satisfaction of seeing how badly his deserting had affected her.

“Detective.”  Startled by the sudden break in the silence, Chloe quickly turned around.  Lucifer stood before her, close yet just out of arms’ reach, wrapped in a black silk robe.  His features cast dark shadows across his face, obscuring his eyes in a way that made them appear menacing, in a way that caused the urge to wrap her arms around him bury itself beyond discovery.  “What a pleasant surprise.”  She swallowed hard, confused by and wary of the sharpness of his voice.

“So, it’s true,” she started quietly.  “You’re back.”

“Indeed.”

“Amenadiel told me you were here, but I…I had to come see for myself.”  She shrugged gently.  “You know, since you haven’t answered any of my calls or the text messages I left you over the last two weeks.”

“Why would I?”

“Why would – Lucifer,” she breathed with disbelief.  “You left.  Just up and disappeared, and no one knew where you were!  What if something had happened to you?”  She dared a step closer to him.  “We’re partners, Lucifer, friends, and maybe something…”  Her shoulders dropped a bit.  “I thought maybe something more.”  He scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Yes, well, about that,” he started.  “That’s a long, very tragic story of what never was.”  Chloe frowned and the tears began to shine in her eyes.

“What does that mean?”

“Lucifer?”  Chloe kept her eyes on Lucifer but turned her head towards the unfamiliar voice.  “Who are you talking to?”  A woman with long and curly brown hair surfaced from the darkness of the balcony to take residence at his side.  Slender fingers appeared from the sleeves of a robe identical to the one Lucifer wore.  They wrapped around his elbow, slid slowly to his hand, curled around his fingers.  “Who’s your friend?” she asked with a pleasant smile.  Chloe tore her attention from Lucifer to look at the woman.  She felt a flush tinge her cheeks, embarrassed that she could not hide the hurt in her expression, the fully formed tears in her eyes.

“This is Detective Decker,” he answered, gesturing towards her.  “Detective, this is Candy Morningstar.  My wife.”

“Your…wife,” she repeated with a single nod.

“Yes.”

“Huh.”  She nodded again.  “Okay.  Um, I’m going to go.  I’m, uh, I’m sorry for interrupting.”  She quickly moved towards the elevator and struck the call button as soon as her fingers could reach it.

“Detective?” Lucifer called as he slowly followed.  Once she was inside the confines of the car, she turned to him.  “Aren’t you going to congratulate me?”  Chloe looked at the woman, giving her a good once-over from head to toe before purposefully turning her angry eyes back to him.  His expression hardened, his anger challenging hers.  She slammed her palm against the control panel inside the elevator and the doors closed, severing their icy stares.

“Lucifer?”  He dropped his chin and turned slightly towards Candy’s voice.  “That was the detective?” she started quietly as she approached him.  “ _The_ detective?”  His eyes closed and he nodded.  She stood behind him and gently ran her hands over his shoulders and down the length of his arms.  His shoulders fell with the release of a long, heavy sigh.  “Are you all right?” she asked.

“No,” he answered quietly.  “I do not believe I am.”  Candy offered an unseen, sad smile as she rested her cheek against his back and comfortingly wound her arms around his waist.

“You have your reasons, I know, and I know better than to ask, but I _am_ going to say it.”  He turned in her arms, meeting her eyes with a raised eyebrow.  “You’re an idiot,” she chided gently.

“Perhaps,” he conceded.

“No, not perhaps.”  She lifted her hands to his face, gently cupping his cheeks.  “No woman holds that much hurt in her eyes without having held that much love in her heart.”  Candy dropped her hands and gently patted his chest.  “You _could_ tell her,” she started.  “She _is_ a detective; she would understand.”

“No doubt she would,” he said with a nod.  “At least, in regards to your situation.”

“And all those reasons you have that I won’t ask you to tell me?”

“That’s an entirely different matter, I’m afraid.”  He sighed quietly.  “One the detective would be better off not knowing.”

**Lucifer**

The phone buzzed in Chloe’s pocket for the twelfth time.  Maybe the seventeenth.  Honestly, she had lost count after the third buzz.  She stood before the door of her apartment, wondering just when she had arrived.  She could not recall the drive from Lux.  She didn’t remember leaving the establishment, didn’t remember getting into her car.  She didn’t remember any turns or streets or intersections and stoplights.  She didn’t remember taking the short walkway to her apartment.  Yet there she stood, quite possibly more oblivious to the world around her than she had been during her drive.

Despite her inattentiveness, she couldn’t shake the image of Lucifer’s eyes, icy and black, and so coldly directed at her.  He had never acted that way towards her; had never looked at her with anything other than soft fascination and respect, and every so often a smoldering curiosity.  Even after her car accident when he suddenly had become self-destructive and dark, and had purposely tried to push her away, his eyes never held the contempt she had just witnessed.  The thought of his expression sent shivers of distress through her body, made her physically ill, made her chest hurt.  They were sensations she only felt when she was afraid.  When had he become someone she needed to fear?  _When I started to let him in,_ she thought.

Chloe’s fingers gingerly closed around the doorknob and she quietly let herself into the apartment.  Never again would another person gain her trust.  Never again would she let someone touch her heart; see her heart.  Never again would she allow herself to be susceptible to the pain.  Lesson learned.  The hard way, but learned nonetheless.

“Decker!” Maze cheered.  “I’ve been trying to call you,” she said, holding her phone in the air for show.  “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming home.  But I knew you wouldn’t back out of girls’ night.”  She placed her hands on her hips and regarded Chloe as she turned to close the door.  “You should change though,” she suggested.  “I mean the shirt and the knee-high boots are cute and all, but we’re not doing cute tonight, sweetheart.”  Chloe turned to see Maze’s eyes light up.  “I have _the_ perfect skirt to go with those boots,” she said excitedly.  “We’re going to slut you up good!”  Maze’s smile fell as she moved towards Chloe, getting a better look at her face.  The confusion, the sadness, the superficial normalness that had graced Chloe’s features over the past weeks were gone, replaced with something Maze couldn’t name, something that truly caused her concern.  “Hey,” she started, slowly continuing forward.  “What is it?”  Chloe’s eyes drifted to the floor and she offered a partial shake of her head as an answer.  Placing her hands on Chloe’s shoulders, Maze tried to level their gazes, tried to get the human’s attention.  “Why don’t we…stay here tonight?  Just you and me.”  Chloe nodded numbly.  “Okay.  Do you, uh, still wanna get drunk?”  Blinking slowly through her haze of thoughts, Chloe lifted her chin and focused on Maze’s brown eyes.

“Absolutely,” she answered.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, I have not been able to respond to the comments left on chapter one. (I blame Windows10) So thank you kindly for your responses! Hopefully I can get to you soon!

**Day 2, Part 1**

The night hadn’t turned out quite the way Maze had expected.  She had planned on going out, drinking with her tribe, getting the human detective wasted.  She had succeeded in the latter, yet it hadn’t produced the silly, shenanigan-filled woman the demon had come to enjoy.  This time, it had been different.  Chloe had wordlessly accepted every drink Maze had poured for her, and with every drink, the frown across her brow had softened and the angry stare at the floor had lost a touch of focus.  However, nearly a full bottle of liquor later, Maze had not been able to pull Chloe from her consuming reverie, had not been able to draw a single word from her mouth.

Maze knew the woman had suffered through a long two weeks.  Though she had recovered without severe complications from the poisoning, Chloe’s energy level was extremely low, but stubborn as she was, the detective didn’t take more than a few hours to rest once released from the hospital.  After discovering Lucifer had left the city, Chloe had dived head first into searching for him, working through the days and nights, tracking any tangible lead she could find.  The concern over Lucifer’s well-being had faded after the first few days, replaced with a vague and numbing anger as Chloe had started to realize, but had not necessarily admitted, that he had fled, had run away from his life in Los Angeles, from his brother and his friends.  From Chloe herself.  Then everything had changed.  Chloe had continued to help with the search for Lucifer, though not to a steady degree.  She had continued to display moments of frustration, of sadness and anger when she didn’t know Maze had been watching, yet otherwise appeared to be happy, normal.  Boring.

Getting Chloe to her bedroom and into the loose-fitting clothing she preferred to sleep in had taken no effort on Maze’s part.  The detective had not argued as she had guided her through the motions.  She had wrapped the woman in the warmth of the bed’s blankets and after turning off the light, had taken a seat in the chair across the room.  Maze had been diligent in her guarding, watching Chloe as she slept, unmoving and seemingly peaceful.  And hour and a half had passed in silence before giving way to a choked sound from Chloe.  Maze had approached, unsure of what to do.  She had dropped to her knees beside the bed, had studied the string of tears that fell from the woman’s closed eyes.  _“Whatever it is, Decker, we’ll get through it,”_ she had promised in a whisper as she gently rubbed Chloe’s arm.

“Maze,” Linda greeted with a pleasant smile.  “We missed you and Chloe last night.  You owe Ella a dance for…”  Linda lifted her eyes from her papers and slowly stood.  As she moved around her desk, concern replacing the smile on her face.  “Maze?”  She stood before her demonic friend and placed her hands on her arms.  “What happened?” she asked, worried over the tears glazing Maze’s eyes.

“Something’s wrong,” she explained through an unsteady voice.  “With Chloe.  She’s…broken.”

“Broken?  Is she…is she injured?”  Maze shook her head.  “Okay, okay.”  Linda turned Maze towards the sofa and gently ushered her forward.  “Sit down.  So, the text you sent me last night…you said something had come up.  This is why the two of you didn’t make it?”  Maze nodded.  “All right.  Tell me what happened.”

“That’s part of the problem,” she started.  “I don’t know what happened.  Decker didn’t say anything, not one word.”  She took a deep breath.  “Chloe came home after work and she didn’t look…she didn’t look like she’s looked lately.  She was…numb.  I fed her a lot of alcohol, the strong stuff.”  A gentle quirk of a smile played at her lips for a brief moment.  “She still wouldn’t talk.  She just stared at the floor.  And after she was in bed, after she had been sleeping for a while, she cried.  She was still asleep,” Maze emphasized.

“Crying can be a healthy release for stress,” Linda offered.  “And Chloe’s seen a lot of that recently.”  Maze nodded.  “She certainly doesn’t have an easy job, dealing with death every day.  And then there’s…”  Her words trailed off as she looked to the floor.

“Lucifer,” Maze finished for her.  Her brow creased.

“Yes.”  She nodded.  “Lucifer.”

“This is his fault,” Maze said as she stood.

“Now, Maze, you don’t know that,” Linda started as she, too, stood.

“Yeah, I do.  I’ve seen how Chloe reacts to hard cases.  It’s not like what happened to her last night.  She’s broken here.”  Maze jabbed her fingers into her own chest.  “Lucifer did this.  He hurt my friend.”  Her eyes grew cold.  “And when I find him, he’s going to pay.”

**Lucifer**

“Hey,” Dan started as he dropped lightly into the chair beside Chloe’s desk.  He placed a cup of fresh coffee in front of her.  “You look like you could use this.  Rough night with the ladies?” he asked with a teasing smile.  Chloe set down her pen and wrapped her fingers around the warmth of the Styrofoam cup.

“Um, kind of,” she said with a slow nod and a shy smile.  “Maze and I didn’t exactly make it out of the house.”

“Drunk before you hit the front door, huh?” he joked.

“Yeah.”  She smiled.  “Something like that.”

“I don’t have much to do today.  At least, not at the moment,” he started.  “Do you need a hand on any cases?”  She hummed in the negative and shook her head.

“No, I don’t.  I’m just wrapping up the paperwork from the triple homicide.”  She smiled softly and nodded.  “Thank you though.  And thanks for the coffee.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome.”  He shifted towards the front of the chair and rested his elbows on his knees.  “How are you feeling?  You know, otherwise?”

“I’m all right,” she answered with a slow nod.  “Tired,” she admitted.  “It’s taken a little longer to bounce back than I expected.”  He nodded and sighed inwardly.  He had no doubt her refusal to take some time to recover from the poisoning was causing her exhaustion, but he was certain a lot of her fatigue had to do with the amount of time she had spent looking for Lucifer.  All of the evidence pointed to the club owner leaving the city of his own accord; nothing suggested he had been or was still in danger.  Yet Chloe had expended so many hours trying to discover his location.  All of the work, the time _wasted_ as she looked for a man who did not want to be found.  Not just a man, Dan granted.  Lucifer _was_ her partner, however ambiguous and fabricated Dan believed the civilian consultant title to be.  And he had his suspicions that Lucifer and Chloe had become quite close on the personal front.

“Well that poison was some pretty nasty stuff, Chloe.  You only took one day to recover at home.  Maybe you should take some time off.  I’m sure the lieutenant would understand.”

“No, I’m fine.”  She placed her hand on his shoulder.  “Really.  You know if I have to stay home I’ll go stir crazy and no one wants to deal with that.”

“I won’t argue that part.”  They shared a short, quiet laugh before Chloe’s eyes fixated on a point over his shoulder and her smile slowly fell.

“Detectives.”  Dan frowned and turned in the chair to meet the cheerful person approaching the desk.

“If it isn’t the ghost of Morningstar Past,” Dan greeted as he stood.

“Funny,” Lucifer deadpanned.

“You’re a hard man to track down.”

“When I don’t want to be found, yes,” he agreed.  Dan stepped closer and lowered his voice.

“You had us all worried, Lucifer,” he said quietly as he tilted his head in Chloe’s direction.  Lucifer’s eyes flicked to the female detective, then back to Dan’s gaze.

“Well, worry no longer,” he said with a tight smile.  “I’m here and perfectly fine, as you can see.”  He walked around Dan, putting himself between the detectives.  “So,” he started with a light clap of his hands, “what’s on the agenda for today?”  Dan rolled his eyes as he turned toward Chloe.  He folded his arms across his chest as he took in her position.  She appeared to be engrossed in her reports, with her head tilted downwards and supported by a hand along her temple.  Her fingers shielded nearly all of her face and her other hand furiously tapped her pen against the desk.

“Paperwork,” she answered.  “So you can go home now.”

“What, no pleading with puppy dog eyes for me to stay and help with said paperwork?”  The tapping stopped, the hand holding her head dropped to the desk but she did not turn to look at Lucifer as she responded.

“First of all, I do not plead with puppy dog eyes.  And secondly, that’s never convinced you to stay and help so I could very much like to rid myself of that particular insanity.”

“But, Detective, I came all this way,” he pouted gently.  “Surely there must be _some_ murder in need of investigating.”

“Sorry, we’re fresh out of homicides today.”

“Detective—”

“Go home, Lucifer,” she interrupted, turning her chair to pin him with an angry glare.  The pride and enjoyment Dan was feeling over witnessing Chloe’s attitude towards Lucifer threatened to manifest as a wide smile.  “Go home to your wife.”  Shock overrode Dan’s features, his eyebrows rising in surprise over the words she had spoken.

“Wife?” he started.  “You got hitched?”

“Yes.”  Lucifer smiled and raised his left hand, wiggling his fingers to show the gold band that adorned one of the digits.

“Wow.  Well, uh, congratulations, man,” Dan said, shaking Lucifer’s hand.  The devil offered a small smile.

“Thank you.”

“Hey, Espinoza!”  Dan turned around and looked across the squad room.  “Have time for a ride?  I have a snitch to shakedown.”

“Sure, Henderson,” he answered with a nod.  “I’ll be right there.”  Turning back to the pair, his eyes focused on Chloe’s hand as she furiously scribbled across her papers.  “Uh, Chloe, are we still on for dinner tonight?”  She stopped writing and lifted her eyes to him.  Her gaze was blank as she blinked several times through the brief moment.  Then a smile began to spread across her lips, sweet and tender.  She set her pen on the desk and lifted her hand to cradle her chin in her palm.

“Yeah,” she answered cheerily.  “Unless something comes up, I’ll be out of here on time tonight.”

“Okay.”  He tipped his head and narrowed his eyes gently, confused by the overly happy tone of her answer.  “Great,” he said with a smile.  “I promise not to let Henderson keep me past quittin’ time.”

“Okay,” she laughed gently.

“Meet you there?”

“Sounds good.”  Chloe let her gaze linger on Dan’s form as he walked away and joined the other detective.  Releasing a satisfied sigh, she returned to her papers.  Lucifer took a seat in the empty chair and leaned his forearm on top of the desk.  She tried to ignore him, hoping he would take the hint and leave, but the tapping of his fingers was just as relentless as her indifference.  “What?” she finally asked, rolling her eyes before looking at him.

“You’re having dinner with the douche?” he asked.

“Dan,” she stated.  “I’m having dinner with Dan.”  He frowned as he regarded her.

“Rekindling the fizzled out romance, Detective?”  She kept her features neutral, suppressing the satisfaction she was feeling upon seeing and hearing his agitation.  “Did you not learn your lesson the first time around?”

“Well, what can I say?  I’m only human, Lucifer.”  She steadily held his gaze.  “I make mistakes sometimes.”  Lucifer drew a slow breath and nodded.  He understood the implications of her words; _he_ was one of her mistakes.

“Yes, I supposed you do,” he said carefully.  Pushing aside the knot growing in his chest, he silently reminded himself that his harshness was necessary.  “As far as what you can say, say that you’re not seriously thinking of giving Detective Douche a second go-around,” he replied emphatically.  He needed to push her away, but he refused to push her into the arms of her ex-husband.  Dan had already proven he did not deserve the love Chloe had to offer.  She simply smiled at his remarks and shrugged.  Lucifer stood and smoothed a hand across the front of his suit.  “Since nothing interesting is happening at the moment and I have no desire to delve into this death wish you call ‘paperwork’, I’m going to run a few errands.  Why don’t I come back a little later, hmm?  Maybe a few dead bodies will have stacked up by then.”

“Do whatever you want, Lucifer,” she said with an absent wave of her hand as she stood.  “You’re good at that,” she finished as she brushed past him.  His posture stiffened and his fingers flexed at his sides as he watched her cross the room and enter the forensics lab.  He shifted his weight from one foot to the other several times before walking in the opposite direction.

**Lucifer**

“I have, uh…”  Linda cleared her throat and adjusted her glasses before turning her eyes to the client sitting on the sofa.  “I’ve never done this with a patient before,” she admitted.  “However, I think…in this case…it’s necessary.”  Lucifer carefully eyed her as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“All right,” he started with a wary chuckle.  “Then by all means, Doctor, proceed.”

“Right,” she nodded.  “Okay.  Here we go.”  She stood suddenly and threw her notebook at his head.

“Hey!” he yelled, failing to dodge the pad.  “What was that for?”

“What is _wrong_ with you?” she demanded.  “Lucifer, what were you _thinking_?”

“Far be it for me to tell you how to do your job, but I don’t believe that’s the appropriate way to ask that question.”  He scoffed as he reached to his side to pick up the notebook.  “Throwing the book at me, _literally_ throwing the book at me seems rather unconventional, Doctor.”

“Yeah, well, you and I don’t exactly have a conventional relationship, do we?” she asked, placing her hands on her hips.

“No,” he answered.  “I suppose not.”

“I have questions, Lucifer.  _Lots_ of questions.”

“Of course you do,” he sighed.  He tossed the notebook onto the coffee table and sat back into the cushions as he crossed his legs.  “Ask away,” he said, stretching his arm across the back of the sofa.

“You had a lot of people very worried, Lucifer.”

“So I’m told,” he nodded.  “And that’s not a question.”

“Why?”  She shook her head and dropped into her chair.  “Why did you leave?”

“Because I had to.”

“That’s not an answer, Lucifer.”  He simply shrugged.  “You couldn’t have told someone, _anyone_ that you were leaving?  If for no other reason than to assure the rest of us that you were all right?”  He closed his eyes with a slight roll and shook his head.  “Did something…were there problems?  Because you died?”  He waved a dismissive hand.

“Second time around was much easier, honestly.”  He reached for the glass of water on the table.  “Of course, I suppose that’s because dying this time was _my_ choice.”  Linda nodded slowly as he took a drink.

“Did something change between you and Chloe?”  Lucifer’s eyes immediately flicked to hers with the mention of the detective’s name.

“Nothing changed,” he answered.  “Therein lies the problem.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Well, of course you don’t.  No one does!  Even _I_ don’t understand.”  He sat back again, shaking his head.  “No one understands Dad’s so-called plan,” he scoffed.

“You’re talking about your father placing Chloe in your path.”  He looked at her again, eyes narrowing in confusion.  “Maze may have mentioned something about that,” she stated with a shrug.

“Right,” he said slowly.  “I won’t be a part of His game anymore.  I won’t be subject to His manipulations.”

“Manipulations,” she repeated quietly.  “Explain to me how He’s manipulating you.”

“It’s all quite obvious,” he started.  “I’m the devil and I left Hell.  I threw off Father’s delicate balance.  And I refuse to return.”  His eyes focused absently on the floor.  “Of course, He knew I would leave that awful place long before I did, so He created Ch…the detective.”  A touch of sadness overtook his features.  “I felt…an undeniable connection between us when we met.  She was such a mystery to me.  Still is,” he admitted.  “I wanted to work with her, to be near her so I could figure out why she was different from every other human.  I needed to know why she was immune to my abilities, why I lost all sense of my immortality in her presence.  Why I…I care deeply for her.”  He lifted his dark eyes to hers.  “And now I know that the answers to those questions don’t matter.  They never did.  Whatever Father has planned…”  He shook his head and looked away again.  “I’ve died twice now for her.  And I would do so again.  What better way for Father to manipulate me than to use a woman so…important to me?”

“I remember a session we had some time ago in which we discussed why your father placed you in Hell,” she said quietly.

“Ah, yes, your ‘favorite son’ theory.”

“Yes.  Though, knowing what I know now, that conversation certainly takes on an entirely new meaning.”  Linda took a breath and started.  “You said you were cast out of Heaven as punishment—”

“Because I was.”

“—and that it’s proof to you that your father doesn’t love you.”

“Because He doesn’t.”

“Well, what if you’re wrong?”

“Again with presuming to know what my father does and thinks, Doctor?”

“No,” she said slowly.  “I can’t speak to His part of anything, obviously, however…”  She paused, carefully choosing her words.  “What if you’re wrong, Lucifer?  What if your father really _does_ love you and has put Chloe in your path not as a way to manipulate you but as a way to prove His love?”

“Yes, because creating a human with the specific purpose of connecting with the devil isn’t manipulation?”

“Humans have free will, Lucifer.”

“Do they?  Honestly, I’m beginning to wonder if that isn’t another one of His little jokes.”

“Lucifer,” she sighed.  “Yes, Chloe is immune to your abilities and yes, you are _very_ mortal around her.  Do you understand what all of that means though?  The two of you have had to get to know each other, really _learn_ about one another.  You’ve established a bond as partners, as friends.  You’ve built trust.”  She softened her tone and smiled slightly.  “You’ve shown affection.”  She moved to the sofa and sat by his side.  “Your father is trying to show you that you _are_ loved, that you _deserve_ love.”  She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and gently shook him.  “That you _can_ love.  You’re not the inherently evil being you think you are.”

“And He’s showing me all of this through Chloe.”  Linda nodded.

“Through a woman who has no preconceptions, who cannot be influenced by you.  Every decision she makes about her interactions with you, about her feelings for you, comes from what _she_ sees in you.”

“What if _you’re_ wrong?” he asked quietly.  “What if it’s been set up to look like this is the detective’s choice?”

“What if it hasn’t been?”

“What if has?”  He stood and covered the short length of room to the window.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve left in your wake, Lucifer?” she asked quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m talking about Chloe,” she replied.  He sighed and returned to his place on the sofa.

“What about her?” he asked quietly as he dropped his eyes.

“Lucifer, she’s devastated.”  He shrugged and swept his fingers across the knee of his pants.

“Seems to be getting along rather nicely, if you ask me.”

“I’m _not_ asking you.  You haven’t been around to see it; I have.”  She tipped her head.  “Are you going to tell Chloe that you’re back?”

“She already knows.  My brother paid me a visit yesterday.  He opened his big mouth and told the detective I was back.”  His gaze drifted to the floor, becoming distant as he mentally replayed the evening.  “She stopped by my penthouse last night.”

“How did that go?”

“Just as it needed to.  She was angry.”

“Because you left?”

“Not exactly.”  He leaned forward, grabbed the notebook from the coffee table and gently pitched it towards Linda’s desk.  “There’s…one more thing you should know,” he started.  “Whilst in Vegas, I got married.”  She looked across the room to where her notebook lay open on the floor.

“I really wish I would have saved throwing that at you until now,” she muttered.  “Please, Lucifer, please tell me you gave Chloe a head’s up.”

“I did not.  I _was_ going to introduce them today,” he explained.  “But with the detective arriving unannounced last night…”

“’Just as it needed to’,” she repeated.  “You wanted her to find out that way, didn’t you?  You wanted it to be a big shock.  But not just a big shock, the biggest possible.”  She stood and rounded the table before turning to look at him.  “You’re purposely driving her away, aren’t you?”

“You don’t understand, Doctor,” he said as he stood.  “As long as I am a part of her life, she’s in danger.  Uriel tried to go after her, my mother has tried and no doubt will try again.  I don’t think I can trust Amenadiel not to get caught up in Mum’s propaganda.  And Dad…”  He shook his head.  “Well, only He knows what He’ll do to her.”  He moved to the doorway and wrapped his fingers around the knob.

“So you’re willing to give it all up?  Just like that?” she asked.

“I don’t have a choice.”

“You _do_ have a choice, Lucifer.  You can choose to stop running away.”

“Her life is far more important than what I want.  It doesn’t matter how much I love her.”  Linda stood and moved to his side.

“Lucifer,” she started quietly, “did you hear what you just said?”  He closed his eyes and released a slow breath.

“I didn’t mean…”

“Oh, I think you did.  You always say that your father never speaks to you.  I don’t think that’s the case,” she stated with a shake of her head.  “I think He’s been speaking to you this entire time but _you_ …you refuse to listen.”  His fingers closed around the doorknob.

“She’s better off without me, Doctor.  That is just the way it has to be.”

“Our time isn’t up, Lucifer.  Where are you going?”

“To fan the flames, as it were.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Day 2, Part 2**

Lucifer stood on the balcony, elbows resting on the railing, staring across the near-empty squad room to the level below, to Chloe’s desk.  At some point during the day, she had undone the neatly created bun at the back of her head, allowing her blonde hair to flow loosely over her shoulders.  He watched as she sighed and lazily rested her cheek in her palm.  Her eyes closed slowly and though her features relaxed some, all he saw was exhaustion.  The fatigue he witnessed seemed to feed the hollow pit in his chest.  Like a black hole, it sucked everything towards its middle yet continued to grow nothingness.  He had left the detective’s side in her time of need, left her when she had welcomed him.

He had been scared, confused and unsure of how to proceed, with the realization that he had… _feelings_ for Chloe.  He had no more understood what they meant that he had understood why he couldn’t read her desires, why he was physically vulnerable around her.  Despite the questions that remained unanswered, he had discovered he _liked_ those feelings.  He thought he had wanted nothing more than to explore the new level of their connection.  Yet with his mother’s revelation, he found one thing mattered to him more than his own desires.  Chloe’s free will.  Yes, he had left when she had needed him, when she had just returned from the edge of death, but his absence would guarantee the detective a lifetime with the ability to make her own decision.  She would no longer be a pawn in his father’s game.  She would be safe.

Pushing off the railing, Lucifer adjusted the cuffs of his shirt and smoothed a hand over the front of his suit.  He needed to sever all ties he shared with Chloe.  He had already driven a nail into any remaining hint of “something more”, and their partnership, their friendship were next in line.  He followed the round of the railing to the staircase.  With each step he descended, he pushed harder against the sickening feeling creeping through his body.  He had to make it through the next few days, had to see this to the end.

“Still hard at it, I see.”  Lucifer sat in the chair beside Chloe’s desk and smiled when she looked at him.

“No thanks to you,” she stated.

“Come now, there’s no way you would have allowed me to help,” he countered.

“True,” she said with a nod.  “Can’t really fill out paperwork for a case you didn’t work, can you?”

“I’m certain I could.  Imagine the story I could tell.”  Chloe rolled her eyes at his smile and returned to collecting the papers.  “Nevertheless, I came back, as I said I would.”

“Yeah, because I thought for sure it would be another two weeks before I saw you again.  That is,” she started, gesturing towards him, “if you would have any intention of telling me you were back in town.”

“I _was_ going to tell you,” he defended.  “Amenadiel beat me to the punch.”

“Why are you here, Lucifer?”

“I want to talk to you,” he said as he crossed his legs at the knees.  “I’ve been away and I think we should catch up.”  He threaded his fingers and rested his clasped hands over his thigh.

“Huh.  Okay.”  She set down the papers and leaned over her desk, resting her weight on her forearms.  “You go first.”

“Very well,” he said with a small smile.  “I found my way to Las Vegas, ran into an old friend, and married her.  Your turn.”

“No, no.  Back that up.  You married an old friend?”

“Yes.  Candy and I met not too long after I arrived in Los Angeles.”

“So is this an on-again off-again kind of thing for the two of you?”

“No,” he answered.  “I was rather surprised to have run into her.  I mean there are _so_ many people in Vegas, the odds of us meeting must have been staggering.”

“I’m sure they were.”  He looked to the side, pretending to be pensive.

“Of course, I _was_ at a strip club and, well, that _is_ Candy’s specialty, so maybe the odds were a little more in favor.”

“You married a stripper?”

“Yes,” Lucifer smiled widely.  “She truly is good at her craft.”  He sat forward and lifted an eyebrow.  “Your turn.”  She stared at him for a moment before shaking her head and opening the top drawer of her desk.

“I had an uneventful two weeks,” she replied as she dropped the papers into the drawer.  After closing it with a hard shove, she turned off the desk lamp and stood.  “I’m finished with my reports and I need to go.  I have to get ready for dinner with Dan.”  Lucifer took a turn to roll his eyes at the mention her ex-husband’s name.  He stood as she walked past, grabbing her elbow and turning her around.

“Uneventful?” he questioned.  “There must have been _something_ that happened.  After all, two weeks ago you were kissing me and now you’re trying to patch up things with the ex?”  Chloe scoffed a laugh.

“Two weeks ago, you were kissing _me_ and now you’re married to another woman,” she shot back.  “I don’t think you get to push this line of questioning, Lucifer.”  She pried his fingers from her arm.  “I spent an awful day in the hospital recovering from nearly dying.  Then I stopped by Lux, only to find you MIA.  Then I spent the next two weeks searching for you because I was worried that something bad had happened to you,” she explained bitterly.  “And you…”  As she shook her head, he dropped his eyes and bit at the inside of his cheek.  She was going to ask the question he couldn’t answer.  “Why did you leave?” she asked quietly.

“I have a perfectly reasonable explanation,” he replied.

“Great,” she said as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.  “Let’s hear it.”  He lifted his eyes to hers, opened his mouth and then closed it around a soft sigh.  “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”  She turned on her heel and started to walk away.  Lucifer reached for her again, gently closing his fingers around her arm.

“Detective—”  Her open palm made solid contact with his face, filling the air around them with a satisfying crack.  He closed his eyes as the taste of blood filled his mouth.

“Don’t _ever_ handle me that way again.”  Lucifer remained at the side of her desk, eyes closed until the sound of her footsteps disappeared.

**Lucifer**

The elevator doors opened and Lucifer made his way into the penthouse and straight to the bar.  He shrugged out of his suitcoat and draped it over a barstool as his eyes roamed over the bottles, as he mentally made his selection.  As he poured a drink, he lifted a hand to his cheek, absently rubbing the still tingling skin.  The detective had slapped him.  Hard.  If he was being honest with himself, he had expected that type of reaction.  He would have been disappointed in a way, he supposed, had she not struck him.  Fulfilled expectations aside, the timing of her response bothered him.  He had wanted to talk about his marriage, to throw it in the detective’s face so she would be angry and swear off all contact with him.  Yet instead of being outraged, she had simply excused herself from the conversation.  The physical reaction had not come until he had touched her.

With a sigh, Lucifer lifted the glass to his mouth and took a long drink.  How many times had he taken her elbow to gain her attention?  To pull her aside and quietly discuss a case?  How many times had he placed his hand on the small of her back to guide her to a specific area of a crime scene or to escort her through a doorway?  She had never countered the contact, never told him to stop.  He desperately wanted one more moment to hold her hand, to wrap his arms around her body, to kiss her.  One more moment to commit every part of their embrace to memory.  Progress would take many faces, he knew, and this was simply one of the lot.

“Welcome home.”  Lucifer turned and smiled as Candy came into view.  She turned in a slow circle, showing off the very lacy, very purple lingerie she wore.  “Like?” she giggled.  He hummed appreciatively as his eyes took in the full view.

“Yes,” he answered.  “Very much so.”

“You look stressed,” she stated.  “Hard day at work?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe.”  She laughed lowly as she moved towards him.  She took the tumbler from his hands and set it on the bar behind him.  Her hands teasingly wandered their way up his chest and over his shoulders.  “Maybe,” she started, pressing her body against his, “I have a good way to relieve that stress.  I seem to remember a few things you like.”  Before Lucifer could respond, Candy’s arms tightly wrapped around his shoulders and her mouth crashed against his.  He dug his fingers into her hips, pulling closer as she turned him and pushed him backwards into the piano.  Their kiss was fast and rough, their touches desperate and needy.  He moaned against her mouth as he switched their positions and lifted her onto the piano.

_The tips of his fingers gently brushed the contours of her cheeks before slowly raking through her blonde locks.  He gently dug into her hair, pulling her away from his mouth so his eyes could roam over her features.  Her skin flushed, her lips perfectly swollen and all he could do was stare at her with wonder, with amazement.  He dropped an arm to wrap it tightly around her waist.  Pulling her towards the edge of the piano, he stepped into the v of her legs.  Her breathing quickened, her fingers trembled restlessly against his chest as he hovered over her mouth, teasing the anticipation.  He dropped his eyes to her mouth, licked his lips and pulled her in for a slow, tender kiss._

They fell hard, each scrambling and squirming to settle fully on the mattress.  They pushed and pulled each other, rolling back and forth across the bed sheets, fighting for dominance of the union.

_He slowly lowered her into the middle of the mattress, placing an arm under her back as he settled carefully to her side.  He rested a leg between hers as he continued to gently kiss and nip at her lips._

Their kisses became more frantic, their teeth scraping and biting at each other’s lips.  Candy pulled his hair, he in turn, hers, as each continued to struggle for control.

_Her hand followed the bend in his arm, wandered to his shoulder and smoothed over his black hair.  Smiling against her mouth, he took her wrist and lowered it to rest beside her head on the pillow.  He followed the curve of her body from her side, along the back of her thigh, to the crook of her knee.  Gently wrapping his fingers around the joint, he pulled her leg over his hip.  She whimpered against his mouth as his hand joined hers again.  He chuckled softly as his fingers tangled with hers, his elbow held her arm still, and he pressed his body into hers, thoroughly enjoying the way her breath caught in her throat, the way she arched up against him._

Candy pushed Lucifer off her and onto his back, and then quickly threw her leg across his hips.  From her new position, she worked furiously to undo the buttons of his shirt; he tried to work around her movements to reach the bottom hem of her outfit.

_He rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of his body.  She sat back, straddling his legs as he sat up and placed a soft kiss on the tip of her nose.  Their fingers played with the buttons of each other’s shirts in a gentle unveiling.  He finished first and stopped the movement of her hands.  Carefully, he slipped his hands under the collar of her shirt and pushed the fabric over her shoulders.  She closed her eyes and shivered as his fingers grazed her skin._

Impatience won as Lucifer ripped the garment and flung it over the side of the bed to join the pieces of clothing Candy had torn from his body.  He flipped her onto her back, pinning her with a bruising kiss as her nails scratched across the exposed skin of his lower back.

_Her hands found their way into his open shirt, palms flattening against his chest.  He breathed a shuddered sigh against her mouth as her hands roamed towards his back, as her fingers carefully played along the edges of his scars._

She swore as pleasure-filled pain ran through her body as he pushed into her, his rhythm choppy yet effective.  He swore as she flipped him onto his back and followed his pattern.

_His fingers seized her hips as she gently lowered herself onto him.  He breathed a quiet moan as he reached to knot his fingers in her hair and pull her down for a soft kiss.  Their cadence was slow and shared.  They were perfectly in tune.  He pushed himself up onto his elbows and rolled her onto her back.  Their mouths separated as she drew a breath, paralyzed in all the right ways as he slowly pressed into her._

_“Lucifer,” she breathed._

“Chloe,” he sighed.  A sharp hand hit him squarely in the chest, pushing him away.  His eyes snapped open and he lifted a questioning eyebrow at the brunette beneath him.

“Okay,” she said through labored breaths.  “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”

**Lucifer**

“This looks yummy.”  Dan wrapped his arms around his little girl as he surveyed the array of taco components spread across the countertop of the kitchen island.  “Did you help Mom make the salsa again?”

“Mm-hmm,” Trixie replied with a proud nod.  She turned in her chair to face her father.  “I got to cut the tomatoes,” she whispered loudly.  “Don’t tell Mom I told you.”

“No worries, Monkey.”  He smiled and poked the tip of her nose with his finger.  “Your secret is safe with me.”

“What’s going on over there?” Chloe started as she entered the kitchen area.  “You didn’t tell your dad about the tomatoes did you?” she asked quietly.

“No,” Trixie laughed.

“I’m not sure I believe you.”  Chloe smiled and winked at her daughter.  “Come on and grab some plates.  You can help me set the table.”  Dan straightened as Trixie hopped off the chair and rounded the counter.  He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and turned as the door to his side opened.

“Sorry, sorry,” Maze said, hiding her eyes as she closed the door and moved through the kitchen area.  “I’m not trying to break up the planned family time.  I forgot my whip.”  She took two steps passed Dan then stopped and turned her full attention towards the stovetop.  “Are you making tacos?”

“Don’t worry, Maze.”  Chloe smiled as she handed a small stack of plates to her daughter.  “I made extra just for you.  Leftovers will be in the fridge when you’re home.”  Maze smiled and nodded appreciatively.

“Have I told you how much I love living with you, Decker?  Thanks.”  She moved across the apartment and disappeared into her room.  Dan turned towards Chloe and took a seat in the chair Trixie had occupied.

“So,” he started quietly, “Lucifer got married, huh?”

“Wait, what?” Maze called from her room.  She appeared in the doorway, a scowl on her face.  “What did you just say?”  Dan turned to look at her.

“Lucifer got married,” he repeated with a shrug.  “To, uh…what did you say her name was?” he asked Chloe.

“Candy,” she replied, turning her back on the conversation.  Maze released a near maniacal laugh as she staggered across the room.  She leaned against Dan and placed a hand over her stomach as she tried to catch her breath.

“That is _the_ funniest thing I have ever heard.”  She wrapped her arm around the back of his shoulders and shook him.  “Great joke.”  Dan tipped his head in her direction and her smile fell as she registered the sober air of his eyes.  “You’re…you’re serious?”  She shifted her eyes to Chloe and crossed her arms in front of her chest.  “Candy?” she asked.  Chloe picked up the bowls of taco ingredients and nodded.  “That’s a stripper’s name.”

“Well, if the shoe fits.”  Chloe shrugged and moved towards the table.

“Lucifer married a stripper?”  Maze turned to Dan.  “When did this happen?”

“Sometime after he skipped town,” he answered.

“Huh.”  She nodded slowly.  “So you talked to Lucifer then?”

“Yeah,” he replied.  “He was at the station earlier today.”

“How long has he been back in town?”

“I’m not sure.”  He looked at Chloe as she returned to gather the remaining bowls from the countertop.  “Chloe?”  She simply shrugged.

“Don’t know,” she said.  “Don’t care.”  Maze kept her eyes on the female detective as she returned to the table and helped Trixie finish placing the bowls of food.

“You know what?” Maze started, patting Dan on the back.  “Don’t wait up for me tonight.”

**Lucifer**

The last lingering notes diminished and Lucifer gently slid his fingers from the piano keys.  He picked up the glass of scotch from the top of the piano for a healthy swig then took a long drag to finish the cigarette he had lit before diving into the song’s final play of its chorus.  The smoke left Lucifer’s lips in a tight line as he exhaled and closed his eyes, blending and fading into the air around him.  He lazily shifted his gaze to the elevator as a soft ding alerted him to a visitor.

“Back so soon, Darling?”  He stood, expecting Candy’s thin form to emerge from the car.  The smile on his face faded to an expression of surprise and confusion.

“You _stupid_ son of a bitch,” Maze bit as she stalked into the apartment.  She pitched her leather coat towards the bar as she continued towards the piano.  “And yes, I mean that literally.”

“That’s a rather rough welcome home, Maze.”  He lifted the glass and finished the rest of his drink.  “Even coming from you.”

“Where is she?” the demon demanded.

“Who?”

“The skank you call your wife.”  Lucifer scoffed a laugh.

“Name calling, Maze?  That’s quite a ways beneath you.”  She cocked her head to the side and raised her eyebrow.  “She’s out,” he replied.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What concern is it of yours?”

“It became my concern when you hurt my friend.  When you hurt Chloe.”  He sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Since when are you the detective’s biggest fan?  If memory serves, Maze, not that long ago you were ready to kill her at the drop of a hat.”

“Yeah, well, things change.”

“That they do.”

“Would you go to Hell for her like you did for Chloe?  What does she have that Chloe doesn’t, hmm?” she pressed.  “What makes her better than Decker?”

“Well, for one, she isn’t marked by Father’s agenda.”  He looked at his empty glass and frowned.  “And for me, that one reason is plenty.”

“Lucifer,” Maze scolded as he brushed past her and headed towards the bar.  “Yes, your father put Chloe in your path but you don’t know what that means.”

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters!”  He turned to look at her, surprised by her response.  “You don’t know why she’s different.  There might actually be a good reason for it.”

“Right.  And what might that reason be, Maze?”  She opened her mouth then closed it.  “Do you know what I think?”  He raised an eyebrow and pointed an accusing finger at her.  “I think you’ve been spending _entirely_ too much time with Dr. Martin.”  He turned his back to her and focused on filling his glass.

“What if something would have happened to you, Lucifer?”

“Ugh,” he muttered.  “Why must everyone ask that?”  He faced Maze and slowly walked towards her.  “You may try all you’d like to find your place in this world, Maze, but finding you niche does not negate your instincts, nor the reason behind your creation.”  She lifted her eyes, maintaining the contact of their gaze as he stopped just a step in front of her.  “You’re my protector, my dear,” he stated, a smug smile spreading across his lips.  “Had I been in any danger you would have sensed it straightaway.”  She folded her arms across her chest and let the defiance show on her face.

“And what’s to say I would have come to your rescue?”  A soft, low chuckle rumbled from his chest.

“You’ll always come.”

**Lucifer**

The last few pages of Trixie’s bedtime story had passed before Dan had realized he’d come to the end of the book.  He closed the book and rested it on top of his chest as he turned his head towards the sleeping form of his daughter.  Buried in her blankets and hidden behind the bulk of her stuffed animal, she slept peacefully, snoring softly.  Dan smiled and carefully rolled on his side to place a kiss on her cheek.  He moved off the mattress, placed the book on the nightstand and headed towards the doorway.  Standing under the frame, hand poised over the light switch, he took just a few moments to memorize the scene before him.

A heavy sigh left his lips and he turned off the bedroom light.  His family life would never be as it was, would never be as he had always hoped.  He and Chloe were good parents, they loved their little girl, and neither would let the divorce stand in the way of what was best for Trixie.  He and Chloe maintained a good working relationship, a healthy friendship, a strong trust.  But he and Chloe would never have the marriage they’d envisioned.

Dan quietly closed the door but did not cross into the living area.  Instead, he watched Chloe as she sat on the sofa, her finger absently tracing the rim of her wine glass.  She had started their family time completely engaged with Trixie, with him.  As the evening passed, however, Chloe had started to withdraw, and Dan had no doubt thoughts of Lucifer were the reason.

“Hey,” Dan started with a smile as he approached the sofa.  “I should take off.  Early morning tomorrow,” he explained.

“Oh, okay,” she nodded.  “I’ll be in after I take Trixie to school.”

“Yeah.  Listen, Chloe…”  He ran a hand over his chin.  “If you need to take some time…”

“For what?”

“You can tell the lieutenant that you’re not feeling well after the poisoning and take some time to—”

“But I’m fine,” she interrupted.

“I know you are.  I just thought you could use the time to come to terms with…with Lucifer.”  She shook her head and moved towards the kitchen island.

“I don’t know what you mean by that.”  She pulled the rubber stopper from the wine bottle and filled her glass.

“Chloe, you don’t have to pretend that…”  He drew a breath.  “You can talk to me.  You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” she nodded.  “Of course I do.”

“So talk to me,” he pleaded gently.

“Look, Dan,” she said as she turned to face him.  “Lucifer ran off, he was gone for two weeks and I was worried.  He’s my partner, my friend.  I was concerned about him.”  She took a long sip from her glass of wine.  “And there’s no need to take any time off work for that.”  She brushed past him and returned to her place on the sofa.

“It just seems to have hit you rather hard, Chloe.”

“Consider everything I went through before Lucifer disappeared, Dan.  Then to worry about him on top of that?  I was a tad stressed out.”

“Yeah, I suppose.”  Dan turned his eyes to the floor, tapping the toe of his shoe against the wood.  “So, I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess.”

“I’ll be there,” she smiled.  He offered a small smile in parting and left the apartment.

**Lucifer**

Candy moved slowly through the penthouse, following the faint smell of cigarette smoke to the balcony.  Stopping at the doorway, she leaned a shoulder into the frame and studied the man in front of her.  He had been nothing but good to her, from their first meeting almost six years ago to their unexpected encounter two weeks prior.  They’d had a short but exciting dalliance, one she was certain she’d never forget, but it was the favor he currently offered that held the most significance.  She could never repay him.  Even as he insisted their marriage, however brief it was to be, was sufficient recompense, she knew the life he was helping her find greatly outweighed the one he was hoping to gain for himself.

“Lucifer?” she called gently.

“Yes, my dear?” he inquired, turning to the sound of her voice.

“Are you all right?” she asked as she moved to his side.  “You look exhausted.”

“I’m quite all right,” he answered with a small smile.  “How was your meeting?”

“Good,” she replied with a nod.  “Really good.  They said they could build a solid case, that my testimony should put him away for good.”

“Wonderful.”  Lucifer offered another smile.  “How long until they whisk you away?”

“Two weeks.”  Two weeks, he thought.  Plenty of time to use their marriage to alienate the detective.

**Lucifer**

“Decker?” Maze called quietly as she entered the apartment.  “Chloe?”  She moved through the darkness to Trixie’s room and opened the door to check on the child.  Once she was certain the child was soundly sleeping, Maze headed towards the staircase.  She took two stairs with each rise of her legs, needing to reach Chloe’s room as quickly as possible.  Standing just outside the closed door, Maze carefully placed her hand on the doorknob and listened.  As she expected, she heard soft sobs coming from the other side of the door.  “Chloe?”  She knocked but did not give the detective a chance to answer before she entered the bedroom.

“Oh, Maze.”  Chloe fisted several used tissues in an attempt to hide them from Maze’s sight.  “I was just…”  Her words trailed off as Maze sat on the mattress and curled against her.  “Oh, um…okay.”

“Were you crying?  You _were_ crying?” she asked as she wrapped her arm around Chloe’s shoulders.  “That’s what humans do when they’re angry and upset, right?”  Chloe met Maze’s eyes and nodded slowly.  “Do you need to, you know, do it more?”  Chloe sighed and nodded again.  “It’s okay, Decker.”  Maze pulled her close, allowing the detective to lay against her as she wept.  “It’s okay.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Day 16**

“I just…I don’t understand.”  Lucifer paced the room, one hand in his pocket, the other gesturing as the agitation in his words grew.  “The detective is supposed to be _angry_ with me.  She’s supposed to…to _yell_ at me, tell me to shove off and _never_ speak to me again.”

“But she’s not doing that,” Linda said knowingly.

“No, she’s not.”  He sighed and took a seat on the sofa, resting his elbows on his knees as he hung his head.  “I mean, she’s been ignoring me for the most part.  She keeps partnering me with Detective Douche and she only speaks to me about the cases.  And then only when absolutely necessary.”  He sat back, struggling to keep from rolling his eyes.  “Mostly she speaks to Daniel about the cases.  She hasn’t, however, said anything about us on a personal level.  She hasn’t said anything about my marriage to Candy.  Not a single word.  And because I’ve not spent any time with the detective…”

“You can’t drive in the wedge,” she finished.

“Exactly.”

“So Chloe is refusing to speak to you, she’s not working with you…doesn’t that mean the separation is working? Linda asked.  “Just as you wanted?”

“I need to _hear_ her say the words,” he explained.  “I need to know without a doubt that she’s ready to write me off all together.  I am…I am seriously running out of time.”

“I’m curious.  This…something more that the two of you had was new, just beginning.  Your partnership, your friendship, on the other hand, is much more solid.”  Linda cleared her throat and shifted in her chair.  “Have you considered the possibility that this marriage you’ve concocted may not break that bond?”

“It has to.”

“What if it doesn’t?  What will you do then?”  She lifted her hands and shrugged.  “How far are you willing to go with this, Lucifer?”

“I don’t want to…I _has_ to work.  I can’t…”  He tipped his head and lifted his eyebrows.  “Oh.”

“Oh?”  Linda mimicked his expression, though her eyebrows rose with concern.  “Lucifer, you know I don’t like it when you say that.”

“Eggs,” he responded.

“I’m sorry.  Eggs?”

“She needs the eggs.  That’s it!”  He smiled and stood.  “I have to make her believe the eggs are broken.”

“Wait, Lucifer.  I don’t understand—”

“You’re brilliant, Doctor.”  He opened the door and wandered out into the hallway.

“And I’m certain you don’t either,” Linda sighed.

**Lucifer**

Dan tapped a knuckle on top of Chloe’s desk as he looked around the room for the blonde-haired detective.  She had not been at the precinct much in the previous two weeks, and he had not seen her in three days.  She claimed her time divided between investigating crime scenes and conducting interviews.  Dan had been assisting with those crimes, however, and he knew her caseload had not been that heavy.  Chloe had been reachable by phone, of course, but he could count on one hand the number of times she had been in his presence physically.  He was no fool; he knew she was hiding.

With a sigh of mild irritation having not found Chloe, Dan shook his head and turned towards the forensics lab.  He stood in the doorway and crossed his arms as he leaned a shoulder against the frame.  Ella stood on the other side of the room, her back to him, bouncing and dancing to a melody only she could hear.  He laughed gently and moved through the room.  Carefully, he approached her, slowly waving a hand to gain her attention without scaring her.

“Hey,” she greeted with a wide smile.  She pulled the earbuds from her ears, letting the cords hang over her shoulders.

“Good morning,” he returned.

“Here for your reports?”

“I am.”  He followed as she crossed the room.  “You’re rather chipper this morning,” he commented.

“Ugh, I’ve been here since three,” she started, “and I’ve had a lot of coffee.”  She pulled a blue file folder from the desk and turned to hand it to Dan.  “I mean _a lot_ a lot.  Like the coffee in the breakroom?  Third pot I’ve brewed today.  Pretty much finished the first two myself.”

“Wow,” Dan said with a nod.  “That’s…impressive in all the wrong ways.”

“I’ll pay for it later, I’m sure.”  She leaned closer.  “Don’t be surprised if you find me sleeping on the lab table later this afternoon,” she whispered.

“Okay.  I won’t.”

“Check me for a pulse though?”

“Of course.”

“So,” she smiled, tapping the folder in Dan’s hand, “you were right.  The blood sample you gave me matched the samples from each of the crime scenes.  No doubts,” she said with a shake of her head.  “Someone’s going down.”

“Yeah, he sure is,” he smiled.  “Thanks, Ella.  I appreciate you rushing this one for me.”  As he rounded the table, he lifted his eyes and immediately stopped moving.

“Are you all right?”  Ella appeared at his side, craning her neck as she peered through the doorway to catch a glimpse of what had so quickly caught his attention.

“Yeah,” he answered.  “It’s just…Chloe’s…”  Chloe stood at her desk, quickly digging through the papers in the top drawer.  She glanced up several times, searching the room around her as she handled the papers.  Not a minute later, and in possession of what she needed, she was gone.

“Can I ask you something?” Ella started.

“Shoot.”

“Bang.”  He turned his blue eyes to her large brown ones and lifted an eyebrow.  “Yeah, sorry.  Is Chloe okay?”

“Yeah, of course she is,” he answered.  “What, uh, what makes you think she’s not?”

“Ever since Lucifer came back to town, _with a wife_ , Chloe just seems…I don’t know…”  She scrunched her face and shrugged.  “Off somehow.”  Dan nodded.

“I think we were all a little shocked.  Well, _very_ shocked,” he amended.  “Lucifer isn’t exactly the embodiment of commitment.”

“No kidding, right?” she laughed.  “I saw the line of people the two of you had in here a month ago.  How that man finds time for that, I’ll never know.”  He tapped the edge of the folder on his palm.

“I know,” he laughed gently.  “Chloe’s…she’s been tired,” he tried to explain.  “Since the poisoning.  She told me the recovery was harder than she thought it would be.”

“I’m sure it was,” Ella agreed.  “That whole situation was crazy loco.”

“And work on top of that,” he continued.  “She’s…she’s been stressed.  With work.”  She nodded.  “Work,” he mumbled.

“Is that…all it is?”

“What else would it be?”

“Nothing,” she said with a gentle shrug.  “I just want to make sure she’s all right.”  Dan tapped the edge of the folder on his palm again.

“I have to get this to Johnson,” he said as he headed towards the door.  “Thanks, again.”

“Anytime.”  Ella’s smile fell as she leaned a hip into the table and stared at the door for a long moment.  There was no doubt in her mind that Dan still loved Chloe.  They had shared so much of their lives, after all, and had produced a beautiful little girl.  Yet something inside of Dan refused to see that Chloe had feelings for another man, and that concerned her.

“Ah, Miss Lopez.”  Ella’s absent stare shifted upwards to focus on the face of the tall man standing in the doorway.  Speak of the devil, she thought.

“Mr. Morningstar,” she greeted in an English accent.

“What?”

“What?  Just because I’m mostly a nerd bomb doesn’t mean I can’t be a little cute and proper, too.”  Lucifer’s shoulders dropped and he tipped his head slightly.  “Yeah, okay,” she conceded with a nod.  “What can I do for you?”

“I want to talk to you,” he started as he quietly closed the door, “about Detective Decker.”

“Okay.”

“Is she…is she all right?” he asked.  “From the poisoning, I mean.”

“Seriously?” she asked with a laugh.  “You’ve been back for, what?  Two weeks?  Haven’t you asked her how she’s doing?”

“I _have_ asked,” he returned.  “She refuses to answer with anything more than ‘I’m fine’.”

“Yeah,” Ella nodded slowly.  “Well, she _is_ fine.  Whatever you did to get the formula for the antidote…”  She offered a lopsided smile.  “She’s alive because of you, Lucifer.  And we’re all thankful for that.”

“And you’re certain she won’t suffer any ailments because of the poison?”

“I’m sure.  There’s nothing to indicate any adverse side effects.”  She rolled her hand as her eyes shifted upwards and to the side.  “Well, obviously there’s the whole death part but the antidote got to her in time, so, yeah, she’s good.  Plus, the doctors checked her out, gave her a clean bill of health.”

“Right.  Thank you.”  He smiled politely and turned towards the door.

“When are we going to talk about the rest of it?” she asked, fingers tapping gently on the table.

“The rest of what?”  She tipped her head and pinned him with a slanted look.

“Lucifer,” she started, moving around the table to his side.  “Chloe is my friend.  And she’s hurting.  She’s confused and she’s angry.  I’m not going to pretend I’m not upset by that.”  Lucifer offered a puzzled frown but nodded slowly.

“Then she’s lucky to have your friendship, Miss Lopez.”

“Yeah, she is.”  Ella released a heavy breath.  “You gotta make it right, dude.  Whatever happened between you and Chloe…”  He raised an eyebrow in question.  “Come on.  You can deny it all you want, but I’d have to be blind not to notice the spark between the two of you.  Even then I’m not sure I’d miss it,” she shrugged.  “She deserves an explanation as to why you left.”

“Unfortunately, I cannot give her one.  Not one she will accept, that is.”

“So you’re going to let her continue to think that you’re an asshole?  That you never really cared?”  Lucifer’s features sobered.

“Does she really think that?”

“She hasn’t said the words, but I’m pretty sure she does.  You and I, however?” she started, gesturing between them.  “We _both_ know that’s a lie.”  She stepped closer and poked a finger into his arm.  “And word on the street is Lucifer Morningstar _never_ lies.”

“It’s not a lie, Miss Lopez,” he said with a shake of his head.  “I _am_ an asshole.”

**Lucifer**

“Crystal talked to so many people the day before she died,” Chloe stated as she read over the notes taken by the officers first to arrive at the crime scene.  “She was _everywhere_.”  Lucifer tried to take the papers as Chloe reached across the desk to hand them to Dan.  She pulled her hand away and shot Lucifer a menacing look.  Dan shook his head in a scolding manner at her and nearly ripped the papers from her fingers.  The bickering between Lucifer and Chloe had lost its shine just days after it had started, and a couple of weeks later, it showed no sign of slowing down.

“I can run by the restaurant,” Dan started.  “Talk to the owner and the employees.”

“Yeah, that would be great,” she said with a nod.  “I’ll talk to the family; catch the friends she visited.”

“I’ll talk to the ones she called.”

“Why don’t you take Lucifer with you,” she suggested.

“Detective,” Lucifer started to argue.

“There are a lot of people to question,” she said.  “Two of you will get through it faster than one of you.”

“It’s been two weeks,” he complained.  “Surely I can start investing cases with _my_ partner again.”  He turned to Dan.  “No offense.”

“None taken.”

“I’m the lead on this case.  If you want to keep working here, Lucifer, you do what I say.”  She pointed to her ex-husband.  “Go with Dan.”

“Ugh,” Lucifer whined with a roll of his eyes.  “I don’t know what you did to piss her off,” he started as he looked at Dan, “but I don’t think it’s fair that she’s punishing _both_ of us.”  He offered a pointed, very angry flick of his eyes to Chloe before pulling his lighter and cigarette case from his pockets.  “I’ll be outside when you’re ready to go,” he said as he walked away.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into the two of you, Chloe,” Dan started quietly, “but give the guy a break, huh?  Look, I know he scared you by leaving.  He scared _all_ of us.  But he’s here now, and he’s all right.  I think you’ve punished him enough.  You have your partner back.”  Chloe bit at the inside of her cheek and nodded.

“Yeah, I do,” she agreed.

“Let him help you with your cases.”  She shook her head.

“I don’t need his help.”

**Lucifer**

“Hello, wonderful detective people!” Ella greeted cheerfully as she neared Chloe’s desk.  “Your birthdays have all come early this year.”  She squeezed into the space between Dan and Lucifer, and handed a piece of paper to Chloe.  “I looked at the knife again, went over all the prints and happened to find a small part of one print that was not smudged beyond recognition.  And guess what?” she started, bouncing on her heels.  “George Teague’s fingerprint matches the partial print!”

“Wow,” Chloe smiled.  “This is great, Ella.”  She lifted her eyes to Dan and handed him the paper.  “Just what we needed.”

“I’ll call for the warrant,” he said as he started to back away from the desk.

“Hold up!”  Ella walked behind Lucifer and took several quick steps to reach Dan’s side.  “I’ll go with you,” she said.  “I’m bored.”

“Okay then,” Dan smiled.  Chloe shook her head as she sighed gently and sat in her chair.

“Quite the ball of excitement, isn’t she?” Lucifer asked as he slipped his hands into his pockets.

“Sure is,” Chloe answered.

“Detective,” he started gently.  “I have something to tell you.”

“Is it about the case?”

“No, it’s—”

“It’s going to take a while to get the warrant processed,” she interrupted.  “Why don’t you head home?”

“That sounds more like an order than a suggestion,” he stated.

“Make of it what you will.”  Chloe stood and walked away without another word.

**Lucifer**

“Hey.”  Candy settled her bag on the floor and sat on the piano bench beside Lucifer, her back to the keys.  “It’s time,” she said with a gentle smile.  She lightly ran her fingers down the length of his arm and softly tugged at the cuff of his sleeve.  “I don’t know how I can ever thank you.”

“By making the most of this opportunity,” he said with a smile.  “You have a brand new life before you, my dear.  Use it wisely.”

“I will.”  She nodded then reached for her bag.  “I’m sorry that you were stuck in the middle of all of this,” she started as she handed him a pen and a piece of paper.  “However, I am glad it was you.  No one has ever treated me the way you have this last month.  It’s nice to feel like I matter.”

“You _do_ matter.”  He placed the paper on top of the piano and signed his name on the line at the bottom of the page.  “Do not forget that and you will be just fine.”  He handed the paper and pen back to her and watched as she stuffed both into the bag.

“The agent assured me this will be on file by the end of the week,” she said quietly.  “Lucifer,” she started, turning sad eyes in his direction.

“Hush.”  He hooked a finger under her chin and lifted her eyes to his.  “How long do you have?”

“They’ll be here in an hour.”

“Then you have plenty of time for a drink.”  He smiled and rose from the bench.  “I have something for you,” he said over his shoulder as he moved towards the bar.  Curious, Candy stood and followed him.  “A going away present of sorts.”  He dug into the breast pocket of the suitcoat resting across the bar top and retrieved an envelope.  “Now, I know how much you like all things purple, and I am sorry that I couldn’t find any in that particular color…”  He handed the envelope to her.  “I hope you like it.”  She eyed him warily and opened the envelope.

“Lucifer,” Candy breathed as she eyed the thick stack of hundred dollar bills.  “I can’t…I can’t accept this,” she started, lifting her eyes to his.

“Yes, you can.”  He placed his hands over hers and lifted a serious eyebrow.  “You can and you will.  You will take this and use it to start your new life.”

“I don’t even know where I’ll be going,” she whispered.  “I’m scared.”

“Don’t be.”  Reaching around her body, he pulled her into a hug.  “I called in a few favors.  The marshals that are coming for you are the best of the best, darling.  They will take very good care of you.”

“I never thought I would escape that life.  And now I’m going into Witness Protection, starting over.  The right way.”  She laughed against his shirt.  “It’s really happening,” she started, tightening her arms around his waist.  “Isn’t it?”

“It truly is.”  Candy pulled back enough to lift her chin and meet Lucifer’s eyes.  “I think you’re wrong, by the way.”

“Wrong?”  She hummed and nodded.  “About what?”

“That detective friend of yours.”  He started to pull out of their embrace, but she stopped him with a firm hold.  “Lucifer, listen,” she said gently.  “We made a deal.  You agreed to get me into Witness Protection, and I agreed to marry you so the detective would move on from whatever the two of you started.  I know you think ending that relationship was the right thing to do, but you’re wrong.  She doesn’t need to move on.  The two of you need to move forward, together.”  He closed his eyes and slowly shook his head.  “Don’t argue with your wife,” she joked lightly.  He chuckled.

“Well, I _did_ just sign the divorce papers.”  He smiled slightly and opened his eyes.

“Seriously, Lucifer.  If she looks at you with even a fraction of the love and adoration you have in your eyes at the mere mention of her name…”  She lifted her hands to his cheeks to hold his attention.  “Promise me something.  Promise me,” she continued quickly, “that you will make amends with Chloe.”

“I can’t promise you that, Candy.”

“Yes, you can, Lucifer,” she stated.  “You can and you will.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, this one's gonna hurt.

**Day 21**

The minutes ticked on and Chris Olson had yet to divulge the whereabouts of his third victim.  Jenna Peters, a twenty-four-year-old college student, was still alive, Chloe believed, and she refused to let the young woman die as the previous victims had.  She had offered several deals, trivial ones but deals nonetheless, in hopes of persuading Olson to give up Jenna’s location.  She had tried to scare him with the idea of spending the rest of his life, his precious golden years, in prison.  The look he had given Chloe only told her he was no fool; he knew he would be in prison for his remaining years whether or not he gave her the information.  Chloe had even thrown Dan into the interrogation room, asking him to buddy up to Olson, to get him talking.  Yet Olson remained quiet, never uttering a single word.

Chloe moved away from the one-way mirror, forcing herself to stop staring at the murderer.  She placed her hands over her face and prayed the tears wouldn’t come.  She hadn’t slept in over a week, only catching an hour of fitful rest here and there, and the exhaustion was well beyond taking its toll.  She couldn’t eat; she could barely concentrate on her cases.  She felt as though she was floating through the darkest of limbos.

And it was entirely Lucifer’s fault.

She was trying, _really_ trying to understand the possible reasons for Lucifer’s disappearance.  She knew how self-centered he could be, and that in some instances he honestly didn’t know how to behave any differently.  He was changing, however, learning how to put others before himself.  She badly wanted to link the naïve narcissistic traits to his decision to leave, to have a reason to forgive him, to look past the hurt and mend their partnership, their friendship.  Perhaps start again to build something more.

Yet every scenario she thought up ended the same way, with the realization that Lucifer never really cared about her.  He upended her life by leaving and then stirred the pot by returning and throwing his happy little married life in her face.  At first, Chloe hadn’t believed the behavior intentional, but then she started to notice the way Lucifer watched her whenever he, or someone else, mentioned his marriage.  He would tip his chin slightly upwards; open his eyes just a little wider.  He would track each of her movements and then narrow his eyes as they returned to study her face.  It was as though he was looking for a specific reaction from her.  She had changed everything at that point, walking away from the conversations about his marriage instead of simply ignoring those that come to congratulate him, cutting off nearly every discussion he had tried to start with her, pushing him to work with Dan instead of allowing him to spend the days with her.  And his reactions had followed her suspicions.  They became bitter, irritated.  He couldn’t hide the frustration over her coldness.

“Hey,” Dan started quietly, gently as he entered the room.  “I know you don’t want to hear this,” he said, running his thumb over his bottom lip, “but I think you could really use Lucifer’s help on this one.”

“I don’t need his help, Dan.”

“So you keep saying.  Chloe.”  He stood in front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders.  “We are running out of time, Chloe.  If Olson doesn’t start talking and very soon at that, Jenna is going to die.”

“I know,” she bit quietly.  “There has to be something I’m missing, Dan.  Something I can use to get him—”

“Chloe,” he interrupted harshly.  “There’s nothing.  You need Lucifer’s help.”

“I don’t need his help!” she yelled.  Twisting from Dan’s hold, she ran from the room.  She muttered to herself as she quickly wandered outside and through the first half of the parking lot.  _You make me a better detective._   That had been a lie.  She didn’t need him by her side to be a better detective.  She didn’t need him for anything.  She had solved plenty of cases, had been just fine on her own; just fine before she had known Lucifer Morningstar existed.

Chloe leaned her back against a lamppost and let her body slid to the ground as she started to cry.  Dan was right; she knew it.  They had no chance of finding Jenna if she didn’t bring in Lucifer to work his magic.  She _was_ a better detective while working with Lucifer, her partner.  _Her_ partner.  She couldn’t explain how he changed her.  She couldn’t explain why they seemed to work so flawlessly together.  Nonetheless, they did.  And she missed it.  She _needed_ it.

“Damn it.”  She dug her phone from her pocket and stared at the blank screen.  How many texts had she sent?  How many messages had she left?  How many went unanswered?  Too many.  “Please,” she whispered as she dialed his number.  “Please answer this time.”

_“Detective.”_   Lucifer’s voice came through the speaker sharply, with a disdain and somberness she had never heard from him.  _“To what do I ow this surprise?”_ She bit at her bottom lip for a moment before answering.

“Lucifer,” she started quietly, “I need your help.”

_“Do you now?”_

“We have…have a guy in custody.  He kidnapped three young women,” she explained.  “Two of them are dead and the third…”  She tightly closed her eyes and ran her fingers over her forehead.  “Lucifer, if he doesn’t tell us where she is, she’ll be dead, too.”

_“And you’re telling me all of this because…”_

“You can make him talk, Lucifer.  You’ve done it before.  I need…I need to know where she is.”

_“Let me make sure I understand this,”_ he started.  _“You want **me** , the partner you refuse to work with, to talk to **your** suspect to find **your** victim?”_

“Lucifer, please,” she whispered.

_“What do I get out of this, hmm?  What do I get in return for doing you this little favor?”_   Chloe opened her eyes but frowned in anger at his question.

“How about the satisfaction of knowing you helped to save the life of an innocent woman?”  The moment of silence that passed between them seemed to last forever.  Then Lucifer sighed and for the first time during the case, hope found its way into Chloe’s heart.

_“Very well,”_ he replied.  _“I’ll see you shortly.”_

**Lucifer**

Lucifer slipped his hands into his pockets and sat on the hood of Chloe’s car.  The city had condemned the house before him.  Nearly every window on the shack of a building had been broken, every surface tagged by brightly color spray paint.  The grass had blossomed into weeds that stood almost two feet tall.  He watched with a nervous anticipation to which he would not admit as Chloe and Dan, and a handful of officers swarmed into the house.

After Lucifer had arrived at the precinct, Dan had explained that the missing woman had done nothing wrong; that she, as the other victims, had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time.  He did not condone the needless punishing of innocents, and that had been all he had needed to stir the fire.  He had marched straight into the interrogation room and within minutes, Olson had given him Jenna’s location.  Chloe had not wanted to involve Lucifer in the rescue, but the dwindling window of opportunity, as well as Dan’s stern and pointed expression, had offered no room for arguments.  Lucifer had patted the male detective on the back, called shotgun and made his way to Chloe’s vehicle.

An officer appeared in the doorway, calling and waving over the paramedics.  A few moments after entering the house, they exited with the missing woman secured to a gurney.  Dan followed the group out of the house and waited until the ambulance drove away, sirens screeching, before joining Lucifer.

“Hey,” he said with an upward tip of his chin.  “Jenna’s a little worse for the wear, but she’s going to make it.  Thank you, Lucifer.”  The devil nodded slowly.  Dan gently slapped a hand against Lucifer’s arm and then joined the group of officers pouring from the entryway of the house, giving them direction to process the area.  Pushing off the car, Lucifer fiddled with the cuffs of his shirt and crossed the lawn to enter the house.

He spotted Chloe immediately and wandered through the hallway to the bedroom at the end to join her.  Her blue-gloved hands sifted through the contents of an old, dirty cardboard box sitting on top of a tattered and worn mattress.  He approached slowly, stopping behind her to peer over her shoulder.  Lucifer stole a moment to look at the profile of her face, to allow his eyes to trace the thin sections of hair that hung from her temple, too short to reach the band of her ponytail.  Under almost any other circumstance, he would have hooked a finger around those tendrils of hair, would have drawn them behind the curve of her ear.  Would have placed a soft kiss on her lips as she turned towards him to question his actions.

“These pictures go back years,” Chloe whispered with a shake of her head.  She pulled a yellowed photo of three young children from the box and turned it over, sighing heavily when she saw ‘1987’ scribbled across the back with black marker.  “Missing persons is going to have their hands full with this one.”

“Yes, well, you have your precious victim, Detective,” he started quietly.  “Are you done using and abusing me now?”

“No one is using you, Lucifer.”

“I beg to differ.”  She placed the picture in the box and turned to him with an expectant expression.  “You called me in for a favor and didn’t offer one in return,” he explained.  “Using.  And forcing me to spend my days riding around with Detective Douche, well, _that_ can only be described as abuse.”

“If you want to go home, Lucifer, go home.  No one’s tying you down.”  A slow smile spread across his face as she waved an absent hand and turned away.  It had been far too long since he had seen the blush of deeply denied desire creep across her cheeks, the blush only an inappropriate comment from his lips could bring forth.  And what an opening she had left him.

“Pity,” he started quietly around his smile.  “I rather enjoy being tied down.”  He didn’t receive the expected eye roll or any verbal scolding from her.  She had not been paying attention to him, simply continuing to sort through the box of pictures.  Lucifer shook his head and dropped his shoulders.  The end was near; he could feel it deep within his being.  He left the room, the house, and began the long walk back to Lux.

**Lucifer**

“He’s making you miserable.”

“He’s really not.”

“He is.”

“Maze.”  Chloe rubbed her hand across her forehead and turned towards her roommate.  “He’s not,” she said sternly.  “Lucifer is just…a pain in the ass.  Like he’s always been.  Okay?”

“Okay.”  Maze placed her elbows on the countertop and then rested her chin in her hands.

“What?” Chloe asked with exasperation.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well, that’s your problem then.”  She turned to the back counter and grabbed two plates.  “Trixie!” she called.  “Supper’s ready!”  She placed a plate in front of Maze and one in front of the empty seat next to her.  Maze picked up the chicken nugget, holding it close to her face as she studied it.

“Weird,” she said.

“It’s Trixie’s turn to pick supper,” she said with a shrug.  “Not the healthies of meals…”

“But the best!” the little girl said as she hopped into the chair next to Maze.  She pulled a fry off her plate and popped it in her mouth.  “Mommy, can I have some ketchup?”

“Sure thing, Monkey.”  Maze watched with interest as Chloe poured a small blob of the condiment on her daughter’s plate.

“Can I…” she started, pointing towards the bottle.  “Can I try some?”

“Sure.”  Chloe handed over the bottle.  Maze poured a small amount on her plate and dredged a fry through it.

“Ooh,” she said around a full mouth.  “I really like this.”  Chloe watched with disgust as Maze turned the bottle upside down and proceeded to drown her entire plate in ketchup.

“Gross.”

“Says you,” Maze returned.  “Anyway, my offer still stands, Decker.  You want me to kick Lucifer’s ass, just say the word.”

“Maze,” Chloe scolded carefully, her eyes shifting towards her daughter.  The demon sat a little straighter, looked at Trixie and placed her hands over the little girl’s ears.

“You want me to kick his ass,” she offered again, “just say the word.”  Trixie turned her head to Maze, the smile on her face wide.

“I heard you say a naughty word,” she said loudly.

“Don’t tell your mother,” she whispered after she pulled her hands away.  “You’ll get me into trouble.”  Trixie simply giggled and ate another fry.  Chloe rolled her eyes and turned to the other side of the kitchen to prepare her own plate of chicken nuggets and fries.

“There’s really no need for your, um, services, Maze,” Chloe started, as she dropped a few nuggets onto her plate.  “Lucifer is not worth the waste of energy.”

“Mommy, you’re phone’s buzzing.”  She turned around to see Trixie holding the cell phone in the air.

“Thanks, Monkey.”  She took the device and pulled up the incoming text message.  “Maze?  Can you watch Trixie for a bit?”  She tucked her hair behind her ear and chewed on the corner of her bottom lip.  “I have to…I have to go the station.”

“No problem, Decker.”

“Trix, you’ll be good?”

“Yes, Mommy.”  Trixie added more ketchup to her plate and then handed the bottle to Maze.

“And you, Maze?” Chloe questioned.  The demon shoved a ketchup-covered fry into her mouth and rolled her eyes.

“Yes, Mommy,” she answered.

**Lucifer**

Chloe walked slowly through the empty club as she typed and sent a text to Lucifer.  Shoving the phone into her jacket pocket, she sighed heavily and took a seat at the bar.  Regardless of where her eyes wandered as she looked around Lux, the piano in the middle of the floor demanded her attention.  The spotlight hanging from the ceiling above the piano shined brightly upon the instrument; its glow a stark contrast from the dimmed lights throughout the rest of the area.  Chloe slid off the stool and made her way to the lighted area, almost transfixed by the sight.  Like a moth to a flame, she thought.

Despite Chloe’s best efforts to convince herself otherwise, the pull she felt had nothing to do with the brilliant emphasis on the piano.  She knew the reasons were far more personal.  Some of her most significant moments with Lucifer had happened at his pianos.  It was where she had first met the man; club owner that liked to play cop.  It was where they had discussed so many cases.  It was where they had shared their reconciliation after the auction, where they had mourned the loss of Father Frank.  It was where she had shared her surprise of saving his home.

A quiet, sad laugh left Chloe’s lips as she ran a hand over the smooth surface of the black wood.  There was another moment, one conjured in the deep recesses of her mind, that involved Lucifer and his piano.  She closed her eyes and thought back to a dream that seemed to have existed so long ago.  She had thought the rather explicit nature of the fantasy caused by finally admitting to herself, and to Lucifer, that she had feelings for him, feelings that went beyond those of friendship.  Now she simply wondered if she was just missing the touch of a lover, subconsciously fulfilling her need to be wanted.  Was she that desperate for attention that she would let a man that had infuriated her so thoroughly become a substantial part of her life?

No, she wasn’t desperate, just mistaken for letting herself believe she could find happiness.

Lucifer watched Chloe from the balcony.  The light over the piano surrounded her and she glowed like an angel.  Even though he knew leaving L.A., leaving Chloe, had been the best decision for both of them, he regretted it.  Tonight, though, would become a night filled with more remorse than anyone, human or divine, should have to suffer.  There was nothing he had ever done, nothing he could ever do, that would hurt as much as the conversation he was about to have.

“Detective,” he greeted as he descended the stairs.  “Thought you’d come up to the penthouse to talk to me.”

“I didn’t want to…interrupt…”  She cleared her throat as she turned towards him.  “Anything,” she finished, tapping her fingers on the piano.  He frowned, confused by her explanation.  “You know, with you and…”  She narrowed her eyes as his frown deepened.  “Your wife,” she supplied.

“Oh.”  He nodded.  “Right.  Of course.”  He turned his back to her and moved towards the bar.  Candy had been gone nearly a week.  It was a week longer than he planned on keeping up the charade for the detective’s sake.  He needed to end it, here and now, before Chloe found out that he was no longer married.  Before his guilty conscious got the better of him and he told her the truth.

“So, I got your message,” she started.  “Left a great supper of chicken nuggets and french fries for this.  What do you want?”

“You and I have some unfinished business.”

“Do we?”

“Yes.  This ‘us’ craziness,” he replied with a small laugh.

“Huh.”

“I have been trying to talk to you for a few days, but you keep walking away from me.”  He slipped behind the bar and searched for two empty glasses.  “I feel we need closure,” he explained as he then chose a bottle.  Chloe returned to her place on the barstool.

“Closure…for something that never happened?”  He placed the glasses on the bar in front of her and shrugged.

“Perhaps ‘clarification of boundaries’ is a better way to put it.”

“Boundaries?” she laughed.  “That’s hilarious coming from you.”  He filled a glass and pushed it towards her.  She pushed it back.  “You have _never_ respected boundaries, Lucifer.”

“I don’t think that’s true, Detective,” he said, filling his own glass.

“When we met you asked me if we’d had sex because you thought you had seen me naked.”

“And I was right.  About the naked part, at least.”

“Then you very openly announced your big plan to sleep me.  That very same day, when I came here,” she started, tapping an angry finger on the bar top, “you greeted me _completely_ naked.  I cannot count the number of times you’ve offered sex.”

“Ah, that’s easy.”  He took a quick drink.  “It’s the same number of times you’ve turned down my offers.”

“You pushed yourself into my job.  You let yourself into my apartment _all_ the time.  You did the same while I was living at my Mom’s house.  There _are_ no boundaries with you.”

“Yes, well, fair assessment, I suppose.  Nevertheless, we had a moment and—”

“And nothing, Lucifer.  _Nothing_ happened.  We had _one_ kiss.  It was _just_ a kiss.”  She pushed off the stool and walked away from the bar.

“It didn’t mean _anything_ to you?” Lucifer pushed as he followed her.

“I thought it did,” she said with a nod as she faced him.  “But I’ve had time to really think about it and I realized that you were right.  We would never have worked out.”  Though her features remained calm, tears started to swell in her eyes.  “We were just fine as partners, Lucifer.  It should stay that way,” she said quietly.

“Partners,” he scoffed.  “You won’t even _work_ with me.”  She lowered her eyes as she nodded.

“I know.  I’m sorry.”  She slowly, carefully met his eyes.  “I want to,” she whispered.  “I want the two of us to be partners again.”  His breath caught in his throat at her admission, but he kept the surprise, the elation over her declaration from his face.  _You can choose to stop running away._   Linda’s words bounced through his mind.  He _could_ stop running; he _could_ end this pain.  But would the alternative of a living a life that wasn’t genuine, that was planned from start to finish be any less of a punishment?  He was certain it would be worse.  Lucifer circled to stand behind Chloe, unable to watch his destruction settle in.

“Partners, friends…something more,” he taunted quietly near her ear.  “All your eggs seem to be in one basket, my dear detective.”  She slowly closed her eyes and the building tears trickled down her cheeks.  “And it appears said basket has been dropped.”  He watched her shoulders rise as she took a deep breath and he steadied his stance, prepared for her response.  She quickly turned to him, slapping him across the face as she had weeks before.

“I _never_ should have let myself be vulnerable around you,” Chloe bit.  “I let you in.  I _trusted_ you!”  Her breathing shuddered as the tears began to fall freely.  “I needed you, Lucifer, and you _left_ me.  Like I never mattered to you.”  Every doubt she had been thinking about over the last weeks hit her features and she shook her head.  “I didn’t, did I?  After everything we’ve been through together…I could have been anyone, right?”  She took several quick breaths and roughly planted her hands against his chest, forcibly pushing him back a step.  “You,” she continued, pushing him again, “are _selfish_ to a _nauseating_ degree.”  She pushed a third time and he stumbled through two steps before reaching forward to wrap his fingers tightly around her wrists, to stop her assault.  Chloe fought against his embrace, pulling herself free and pushing him into a small, high table.  Though Lucifer managed to recover his balance, the table and the accompanying chairs fell to the floor with a clatter.  “You were right,” she said as he smoothed a hand over the front of his suit.  “You’re _not_ worth it,” she spat.

“I tried to warn you, Detective,” he said evenly.  “But this _is_ your fault.  _You_ kissed _me_.  Not the other way around.”

“I didn’t…you always…”  Chloe’s hands fisted at her sides.  “I’m finished with you, Lucifer.  We’re done.  I _never_ want to see you again.”  She turned and wiped the tears from her eyes before quickly making her way to and up the stairs.  As the exit door closed behind her, Lucifer wrapped his arms around his middle and dropped to his knees.

“There,” he said, his eyes looking towards the ceiling.  “I win.  No more games, Father.”  He sucked in a deep breath as tears of his own began to fall.  “No more games.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, if y’all are reading this that means my internet signal has hung on long enough for me to actually post something. Another season of local road construction has made anything internet related practically impossible this last week. Yea… Thank you to everyone who has stopped by, left kudos and commented. I promise to try and respond as soon as I'm officially up and running again. Fingers crossed my signal lasts long enough to post the four chapters I have ready to go!

**Day 25**

Dan hummed lightly as he entered Lux and wandered towards the main area of the club.  Lucifer had been conspicuously absent from the precinct’s building since he had helped find Jenna Peters.  Chloe had been unusually quiet.  Dan suspected one had to do with the other, though he wasn’t sure which caused which.  Chicken or the egg, he thought.  He had been grateful for a break in the bickering, though after just a day of quiet, the silence was becoming just as irritating, just as concerning.  Stopping a few feet from the bar, Dan lifted his eyebrows and nodded slowly as a mild surprise settled over him.  Lucifer stood behind the bar, bent over the countertop.  With the sleeves of his white dress shirt tightly rolled up to his elbows, he furiously scrubbed a section of the shiny, black surface.

“When you’re done,” Dan started, “do you want to polish my silver?”  Lucifer lifted his head just enough to pin the detective with an unamused expression.

“Very funny,” he said.

“I always knew you were a perfectionist,” Dan said as he moved towards the bar and took a seat on one of the stools.  “I mean, look at the way you dress.”  Lucifer looked down, eyes roaming over the black vest he wore over a dark blue dress shirt.  “Not a stitch out of place.  But I would have thought you’d make your employees handle the spit shine.”

“Yes, well, normally I would.”  Lucifer flattened the white rag on the countertop and began folding it.  “And I do.  But I have been _unbelievably_ bored since I haven’t been at the station.”  Dan laughed gently.

“You’ve only been away for three days, Lucifer.”

“Three _days_ , but also four nights _and_ this morning,” he corrected.  “I’ve cleaned just about every nook and cranny in this place.”

“Huh.”  Dan made a show of looking around.  “You’ve done a good job,” he joked.

“Is there no end to your humor?”  Lucifer shook his head and reached to the shelf below the counter to retrieve a couple of shot glasses.  “Pick your poison, Daniel,” he said as he set the glasses on the countertop.

“Uh, no, thank you.  No poison this morning,” Dan replied.  “I’m actually here to see if you’d like to run a case with me.”  Lucifer smiled, caught between surprise and appreciation of the suggestion.

“Really?”

“Yeah.  We’ve worked pretty well together over the last few weeks,” he started.  “And since Chloe doesn’t…well, you know.”  He cleared his throat.  “I could use a sidekick.”  Lucifer’s smile fell immediately.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” Dan laughed.  “Seriously, though.  The department is short-staffed and the lieutenant is letting me take the lead on this case.  Only this case,” he added quietly.  Lucifer hummed and tapped his fingertips on the countertop.

“Not through your punishment regarding the incident with Malcolm Graham?”

“Not quite,” he answered.

“You’re certainly a capable detective,” Lucifer started.  “Perhaps a few solved cases will help you get back into the lieutenant’s good graces.”

“I hope so,” he replied with a nod.  He regarded the club owner for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face.  “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“I give credit where due.”  Dan nodded his thanks.

“So, what do you say?  Do you want to work this with me?”

“I suppose running around town with you cannot possibly be _more_ boring than what I’ve been doing here,” he said, gesturing through the air around him.

“That compliment was short-lived.”

“Right then.  To the Douchemobile.”  Shaking his head, the detective slid from the barstool.

“That’s the spirit,” he muttered.

**Lucifer**

Maze plunked a bottle of amaretto onto the countertop in front of Chloe.  Bending at the waist, she rested her elbows on the counter, cradled her chin in her hands and let her hips lazily sway from side to side.  Her smile grew as Chloe’s eyes slowly shifted from her newspaper to the bottle.

“For your coffee,” the demon said.

“It’s nine o’clock in the morning, Maze.”

“So?”  Chloe rolled her eyes and returned to reading the newspaper.

“I’ll pass, Maze.  Thanks anyway.”

“Come on, Decker,” Maze whined as she moved around the island.  “It’s your day off.”  She placed her hands on Chloe’s shoulders and gently shook her.  “Why do you have to be so…you?”  Chloe released a slow, quiet breath and closed her eyes.

“What’s wrong with the way I am?”

“Nothing specific,” Maze replied.

“No,” Chloe said, turning in her chair to face her roommate.  “That’s the second time you’ve said something like that to me.  The first time…”  She immediately closed her mouth.  “Never mind.”  She turned around again.

“You just need to loosen up a little.  Take a chance every now and again.”  Chloe hummed and nodded slowly.  Lucifer happened the last time she took a chance.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had a day to just relax and not think about anything,” she said.  “I would really like to do that today.”  Maze laughed lightly as she wrapped her arms around Chloe.

“A little bit of alcohol would help you achieve that goal,” she stated with a bit of a taunt as she placed her chin on Chloe’s shoulder.

“Next time, Maze,” she said with a gentle smile.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Okay.”  Maze reached past Chloe and closed her fingers around the neck of the bottle.  “You’re off the hook this time, Decker,” she said, sliding the bottle off the counter.  “But be prepared when the day comes.”  Chloe turned on the chair, her eyes following Maze as she moved towards her bedroom.

“If I’ve learned anything while living with you,” she started, “it’s that there _is_ no preparing when it comes to drinking with you.”  Maze peeked her head from her bedroom.

“It’s great, isn’t it?” she asked with a smile.  “Well,” she started, emerging from the room with a black backpack slung over her shoulder, “I’m outta here.  See you in a few.”

“Another bounty?”

“Not exactly.”  Maze winked and Chloe turned away with a raised eyebrow and a shake of her head.  She paused mid-reach towards her coffee as the sound of cheery-voiced greeting followed the sound of the door opening.  “Mama Decker,” Maze said with an appreciative nod.  “You look fantastic.”  Penelope gently bounced a hand under the soft curls of her much darker, reddish brown hair.

“A new style for a new role,” she said.  “What do you think?”

“I think I like it,” Maze answered.  The two switched places at the doorway as Maze took hold of the doorknob.  “See you ladies later,” she called as she closed the door.

“Someone sounds like she’s off to a good time,” Penelope started.

“Yeah.”  Chloe shook her head.  “Probably better not to ask.”  She pushed off the chair and met her mother for a hug.  “I didn’t think you’d be back in town so soon.”

“I wasn’t expecting it either,” she replied.  “But filming has been delayed _another_ week,” she tsked.  “Something about a permit this time.”

“Hmm.  Do you want some coffee?”

“I would _love_ a cup.”  Penelope sat in the chair next to the one Chloe had occupied as her daughter moved into the kitchen.  “How have you been feeling?”

“I’m, uh, I’ve been doing all right,” she answered.

“You know I’m still very upset that you didn’t call me when you went to the hospital.”

“I know, Mom.  And I _am_ sorry.”  She pulled a white coffee mug from the cupboard.  “Everything just happened so fast and…”  She rested her hands on the countertop and sighed.  “Dan would have called but he was trying to find the antidote for the poison.”

“Oh, it’s all right, sweetie.”  Penelope reached across the counter and gently squeezed her daughter’s hand.  “I’m just happy that you’re still here.  That Dan and Lucifer and that hyper little gal…”

“Ella.”

“Ella...that they were able to save you.”

“Me, too.”  Penelope withdrew her hand as Chloe’s gaze shifted to the living room, as it became distant.

“I’m curious,” she started carefully.  “How, exactly, did Lucifer find the formula for the antidote if the only person who knew it was dead?”

“I don’t know, Mom.”  Chloe turned away and started to fill the mug with coffee.

“Well, didn’t you ask him?”

“No.  No, I didn’t.”  She handed the mug to her mother and offered a small, insincere smile.  “It doesn’t really matter anymore, does it?  I’m fine; no one else was poisoned.  It’s over.”

“It would just be nice if I could tell people what Lucifer actually did to save my daughter’s life.”

“Make something up,” she offered.  “That’s the best I can do for you, Mom.”

**Lucifer**

“So, how is Candy handling you job with the police department?” Dan asked as he lightly rapped his fingers on the steering wheel.  Lucifer looked up from the file on their latest case and offered a confused frown.

“I’m sorry?”

“I just…the hours can be crazy and these kinds of cases can be difficult to deal with,” he explained as he guided the vehicle around a corner.  “That can be tough on a marriage.  As I well know,” he sighed.

“Yes,” Lucifer said with a nod.  He returned to flipping through the papers in the folder.  “Candy is no longer a concern.”

“What?”

“She’s gone,” he answered evenly as he looked at Dan again.  “Been for over a week now.”

“Whoa.  Really?”  Dan shook the surprise from his face.  “What happened?”

“If you must know, we had an arrangement,” Lucifer replied.  “And said arrangement has been fulfilled.”  Dan’s eyes quickly shifted several times between the road and his passenger as he anxiously waited for more of an explanation.

“That’s it?  That’s all you’re going to give me?”

“What more do you want?”

“The rest of the story,” he answered with an incredulous.  “You can’t drop a bomb like that and not give the details, man.”  Lucifer rolled his eyes but caught himself before making a snide remark about the human need for gossip.  Shifting in the seat, he studied Dan.  He had been so tightly holding this secret and he wondered if telling his companion would relieve some of the burden.

“Fine,” he conceded.  “But I must have your word, as an officer of the law, that you will not repeat sensitive information.”

“You have it,” Dan promised with an emphatic nod.

“Very well.”  Lucifer took a steady breath.  “Candy is an old friend,” he started.  “I ran into her by chance during my trip to Las Vegas.  She was in trouble, I called in a few favors,” he rambled, “and now she is in the capable hands of the inspectors at Witness Protection.”

“Wow.”  Dan pulled the vehicle to the curb in front of their destination and turned off the engine.  “Why didn’t you go with her?” he asked.  “Witness Protection accepts married couples.”

“Candy and I are no longer married,” he answered simply.

“Oh.  I’m…I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.  The marriage was a favor to me; a favor in exchange for her protection.”  He shrugged gently.  “We both knew going into it that it would only last as long as she was in L.A.”

“Hmm.”  Dan ran a hand over his chin and looked through the windshield as he processed the new information.

“Ah,” Lucifer started around a gentle sigh.  “Divorced and living the bachelor life again.”  He looked at Dan.  “When are the meetings?”

“There’s no club for divorcees, Lucifer,” he laughed gently.

“No?”

“Not that I know of, at least.”

“Pity.  Imagine all the fun we could have.”  Lucifer’s smile suddenly fell.  “Oh no,” he breathed.

“What?” Dan asked quickly.  “What’s wrong?”

“Now that I’m divorced, does this mean I have to start attending improv classes with you?”  Dan’s face morphed into a concerned disgust.

“I sure as hell hope not.”  He gestured with a tip of his head.  “Let’s go.”

**Lucifer**

“Well, well, well.”  Maze released a long, slow laugh as she slid into the red vinyl booth.  “I’m surprised to see you out and about.  And at a bar, no less.”  She folded her arms and leaned them on the edge of the table.  “Shouldn’t you be, oh, I don’t know, hiding behind your mommy?”  Amenadiel roughly shoved his fork into the large pile of scrambled eggs on his plate and lifted his angry eyes to the demon.

“I am _not_ in the mood, Maze,” he grumbled.

“Too bad,” she replied, regarding the parts of his body visible above the table.  “You’re kinda fun when you are.”

“Why are you here?” he asked with impatience.

“I’m meeting…a friend,” she answered with a smile.  “Why are _you_ here?”

“Breakfast.”  He returned his attention to the plate and continued eating.  “And it’s not a bar.  It’s a restaurant that just happens to serve alcohol, too.”  Maze’s teasing smile fell slowly as she watched him.

“I haven’t seen you since Chloe was in the hospital,” she said quietly.  “I wanted to know…”  Amenadiel lifted his eyes again when she failed to finish her sentence.

“Know what, Maze?”

“Why did you have to tell Chloe Lucifer was back?” she asked with a sharp tone.  He sighed and set the fork on the table.  “He did a damn good job of hurting her all on his own.  He certainly didn’t need _you_ to help him.”

“I wasn’t helping _him_.”  He pulled the napkin from his lap and wiped his mouth.  “All the conspiracies, all the talk of revenge and taking what is rightfully ours…”  He shook his head.  “I don’t know what to believe, who to trust anymore.  We’re just…fighting each other, hurting each other.  Chloe is the only one who is truly innocent in all of this.  I thought she deserved an opportunity to end things with Lucifer on her own terms instead of his.”  Maze nodded slowly.

“You mean she deserved an opportunity for retribution.”

“She was placed in Lucifer’s path,” he said.  “Possibly stripped of her free will by Father.  She deserves something of an upper hand.”

“You know she won’t do it,” she stated.  “She won’t take any revenge, even if it’s warranted.  She’s too much of a goody goody for that.”  Maze scowled as she settled her arm along the top of the booth’s back cushion.

“Over these last two years, I’ve learned that we _all_ can change, Maze.”  He picked up his fork and pointed it at her.  “Surely you’ve learned that, as well.”

“I didn’t change,” she defended.  “I adapted to my surroundings.”  He snorted a bit of a laugh.

“Keep telling yourself that.”  Amenadiel pushed a forkful of hash browns into the eggs and pulled the large bite of food from the plate.

“Chloe has had plenty of time to change,” she said.  “I watched her, gun in hand, face the man who murdered her father, knowing she had every right to kill the scumbag.  And do you know what she did?  She called her fellow officers and had that man hauled to jail.  If she wouldn’t take _that_ opportunity…”  He nodded thoughtfully.

“Maybe this just serves to prove that Mother and Lucifer were right about Chloe,” he said with a shrug.  “The human has no free will and was created simply, or not so simply, to cross paths with the devil.”

“For what reason though?”

“Only Father knows that,” he replied.

**Lucifer**

“That’s not what Trixie told me,” Penelope stated sternly as she placed her hands on her hips.

“She’s eight, Mom,” Chloe countered as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.  “She doesn’t know what she thinks she knows.”

“Oh, so you’re still working with Lucifer then?” she challenged.

“No, Mom, not…not really.”

“Well, she knows _that_ ,” she said matter-of-factly.  “And the nights you’ve spent crying in your room?” she pushed.

“Please don’t.”

“Is that just a figment of Trixie’s imagination?  Maybe she’s making up all of it,” she shrugged.  “Lying to her grandmother.”

“Mom, I—”

“Honey,” Penelope interrupted.  She sighed and approached her daughter.  “I’m your mother,” she started, placing gentle hands on Chloe’s shoulders.  “You can _always_ talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“I lost the love of my life,” she continued, ignoring Chloe’s words.  “It tore me apart.”

“Whoa.  ‘Lucifer’ and ‘love of my life’ do _not_ belong in the same conversation.”

“Oh, please,” Penelope scolded.  “Have you seen the way he looks at you?  Have you seen the way _you_ look at _him_?  All that’s missing is little red hearts floating above your heads.”  She wiggled her fingers in the air for emphasis.

“We are _not_ having this conversation.”

“Yes, we are.”  She led Chloe to the sofa in the living room.  “Sit,” she ordered.

“Mother,” Chloe protested.

“Sit.”  Chloe bit at the inside of her cheek as she dropped onto the cushions.

**Lucifer**

Lucifer slowly circled the two bodies in the middle of the living room floor.  Both victims, one male, one female, lay on their backs, vacant eyes staring at the ceiling.  The man lay over the woman, covering her body from her right hip to her left shoulder, their heads inches apart.  Each sported a single gunshot wound to the forehead, and the male had five bullet wounds spread across his stomach and chest.  Coming to the end of his circle, Lucifer stopped at the pair’s feet.  He studied their faces, looking beyond the mask of death and then lifted his eyes to the large bookcase on the other side of the room, to a picture of the couple on their wedding day.

“Mark and Anna Taylor,” Dan started as he reached Lucifer’s side.  “The neighbor found them.”

“He was protecting her,” Lucifer said as he pointed towards them.

“How do you figure?”

“It’s…It’s the way he’s lying on top of her,” he started.  “As though he fell backwards and toppled over her.”  Dan crossed his arms in front of his chest and nodded.  “Five shots to the abdomen, one to the head…”  He turned towards the detective.  “I bet you’ll find at least two wounds on Anna’s body that line up with the wounds on Mark’s.”

“I think I agree with you.”  He waved over one of the forensics techs.  “Can you roll him off her?”  The tech nodded and carefully crouched next to the pair.  Dan and Lucifer tipped their heads to the left, ready to see the woman’s body.  As the tech gently rolled Mark onto his side, Lucifer lifted his right arm and elbowed Dan.

“Look at that,” he said with a smile.  “Three gunshot wounds through the center of her chest.”  He looked at Dan and immediately dropped his smile.  “It’s a terrible tragedy, of course,” he said.

“Yeah.”  Dan nodded and moved around Lucifer and bent over to get a better look.  “You’re right though.  About the wounds at least.  We can’t say for sure that he was protecting her, or even that the wounds were caused by the same bullets.”

“Miss Lopez might be able to,” Lucifer stated.

“Miss Lopez able to what?”  Lucifer jumped, startled by the voice suddenly at his right side.  “Hi,” Ella said with a smile.

“Yes, hello,” he returned uneasily.

“Have you looked at the bodies yet?” Dan asked.

“I have,” she answered.  “And I think Lucifer is right about this.  I think the husband was standing in front of his wife when shots were fired.  Of course, I’ll have to get their measurements, find out how tall they are and do some projection work with the angle of the wounds and all that fun stuff.  But at first look, that’s what I’ve got.”

“Okay,” Dan started, “so he was in front of her.  Three of the five bullets go through him and hit her.”

“Why the shot to the head?” Lucifer finished.

“The wounds to the abdomen are fatal,” Ella supplied.  “I mean for him, with two shots to the lungs, he would have died within a matter of minutes.  She would probably have bled out before paramedics arrived.  My guess?  Head shot to make sure they were dead before the assailant left the house.”

“Yeah,” Dan sighed with a nod.  “That would make sense.  The neighbor found them?”

“Yep,” she answered.  “She’s in the kitchen.”  Dan tapped Lucifer’s arm.

“Ready?”

“Always,” he answered.

**Lucifer**

Chloe closed her eyes and let her head gently fall back against the wall of the shower surround.  The lavender scent of the bubble bath was not as calming as she had expected, as she had hoped, but the pleasant heat of the water shocked her muscles into a much needed and missed state of numbness.  Her plan for the day was simple, remain immersed in the water as long as the warmth lasted, take a very hot shower after her soak, and then bury herself under the pile of blankets on her bed for a long nap.  With the exhaustion finally gaining complete control of her mind and body, she had no doubt she would sleep through the remaining hours of the day and not wake until the next morning.

Bending her elbows, she rested the joints on the bottom of the bathtub and let her hands float freely in the water.  Her mother had offered to pick up Trixie from school and to watch the child overnight.  _How often does she get to have a sleepover at Grandma’s?_ she had started excitedly.  _It will be so much fun.  And I promise to get her to school on time in the morning._   As much as Chloe hated the nights she didn’t get to spend with her daughter, she realized her mother had been right in her assessment of Chloe’s fatigue.  _You are no good to your daughter if you’re this tired, my dear.  You’ll have the entire house to yourself.  Relax and get some sleep._   Chloe could only promise that she would try.

Chloe’s state of being had not been the only thing on which her mother had offered an opinion, of course.  Chloe had fought a valiant fight, but in the end, Penelope had managed to pull every detail regarding Lucifer from her daughter.  They had talked about the words spoken in the courthouse, about their ‘moment’ at the penthouse.  They had talked about their kiss, about the poisoning, about Lucifer’s sudden disappearance.  _Sounds to me like he was scared,_ her mother had offered.  Then Chloe broke the news of Lucifer’s marriage, and mother and daughter had drifted through many very long and very uncomfortable minutes of silence.  Penelope had broken the quiet with a pointed _Okay, so he’s an idiot._

Penelope had no shortages of things to say after the curt yet accurate statement.  Though extremely bothered by Lucifer’s rash actions and words, she had not let go of the notion that he had been scared and that maybe he deserved another chance to explain his actions.  Chloe had disagreed whole-heartedly with her mother’s suggestion until Penelope had clarified her words, stating that Chloe deserved answers, however harsh they may be.  _If he’s scared, if this is all just an overreaction, a misunderstanding…wouldn’t you like a second chance?_

Would she?

No.

Why would she want a second chance with a man so quick to spit fire in her direction?

_Think about it,_ her mother had offered.

Chloe opened her eyes and shifted in the water.  Her fingers played with the bubbles gathered on top of the water.  She _did_ deserve every bit of truth she was certain Lucifer was holding back.  She _did_ deserve peace of mind.  However, if that peace could be reached by the far easier path of ignoring the source of contention, then so be it.  She shook the bubbles from her hand and reached over the side of the bathtub for her phone.

“Almost noon,” she said with a nod.  Her fingers moved to the half-empty bottle of wine sitting on the floor just to the left of her phone.  Picking it up, she settled herself in the water again.  “Maze would be proud,” she muttered, bringing the bottle to her lips.

**Lucifer**

Lucifer had followed Dan into the quaint kitchen but declined to sit at the table with him and Miss Reed, the Taylors’ neighbor.  Instead, he had chosen a spot several steps behind Dan’s chair where he could lean the back of his hips against the edge of the kitchen countertop and study the middle-aged woman.  Miss Reed’s words and tone, and the slight slanting of her eyebrows indicated sadness.  Yet she was not distraught as he found most people to be after discovering a dead body.  She dabbed at the outside corners of her eyes with a white handkerchief, though Lucifer had yet to see any tears well in her eyes, let along slip from her lashes.

“How long have you known the Taylors?” Dan asked gently.

“Oh, years and years,” she answered with a smile.  “Mark and I started the art shop almost twenty years ago.  Anna came into the picture a few years after that.”

“Can you think of anyone that may have wanted to hurt either one of them?  Disgruntled employee?  Unhappy customer?”

“No,” Miss Reed answered with a firm shake of her head.  “It’s always been me and Mark and Anna.  No one else has ever worked for us.”  Dan tipped his head in question.  “We’re a small art shop,” she explained.  “We paint, we sell.  Nothing else to it.”

“Okay.  How about personal grudges?”

“Mark and Anna were nice to everyone they met.”

“So no jealous exes or flings on the side?  Friendship gone bad?”

“Oh, goodness, no.  Mark only had one girlfriend before he met Anna.  Anna never dated until Mark.  It’s an incredible, romantic story,” she said with a wide smile.  “Mark and I were at a local business party, throwing our names out there, trying to spread the word.  It was marvelous.  Everyone seemed very interested in the pieces we brought for show.  They asked so many questions.  We sold almost every piece and handed out so many business cards,” she bragged.  Her gaze focused on a point in the middle of the table and her smile fell.  “That was the night Mark met Anna.”  She cleared throat, smiled again and looked up at Dan.  “Not two weeks later, they were engaged.  And fifteen years later, they were just as much in love as the day they married.”

“And you?”

“I am no one of consequence,” she answered.  Lucifer pushed off the counter and moved to stand behind Dan.

“No one of consequence,” he repeated.  “So how long have you been sleeping with him under the guise that he’s going to leave his wife?”

“Lucifer,” Dan hissed.

“No, no,” he said, placing a hand on Dan’s shoulder.  “Hear me out.  You’ve worked with Mark for nearly twenty years.  You were the most important woman in his life, by his side when the business started.  You were the girlfriend at that point, yes?”  Miss Reed nodded.  “A short-lived dalliance with an amicable parting?”  She nodded again.

“I didn’t want to break-up.  Neither did Mark.  Our relationship was strong.  But we wanted to work together and Mark didn’t want to risk an ugly break-up over business.  So we agreed to split, to remain friends so we could achieve our dreams together.”

“How noble,” he smiled.  “But then Anna came along, right?  They fell in love.  They married.”  His smile fell as he slipped his hands into his pockets.  “And you were no longer the important one.”

“You’re not suggesting…” she started.

“No, I’m _not_ suggesting.  I’m flat out _saying_ ,” he answered incredulously.  “You live next door to each other,” he said with a sweep of his hand.  “The temptation proved too strong for both of you.  You rekindled that long ago romance, he promised to leave his wife and be with you.  But he didn’t do it, wouldn’t do it.  So you killed them.”

“Living next to each other was Mark’s idea,” she said.  “He thought being close would be beneficial when inspiration strikes.  If we had an idea we could just hop across the yards and work together on whatever we came up with.”

“Right.  And if that explanation isn’t full of euphemisms,” he started with a roll of his eyes.

“I didn’t kill anyone.”  Miss Reed stood.  “I’m done talking to you.  I’ve lost my best friend and a woman who was like a sister to me.  I will not listen to these accusations.”  She turned quickly and left the room.

“You have no filter, do you?” Dan said, looking up at Lucifer.

“You don’t believe her, do you?”

“No, I don’t.  If _I_ had found two of my best friends dead on the floor of their living room, I think I’d be a bit upset.  Miss Reed isn’t showing any emotion at all.”  He rubbed a hand over his jaw.  “There’s no sign of a break-in, no sign of a robbery.  No one’s come across the murder weapon yet.”  He stood and paced a short length.  “If Miss Reed is telling the truth and she had an open welcome to the house then her fingerprints are probably everywhere.”  Lucifer hummed his agreement.  “We have a while to wait before the ballistics report is ready and the rest of the scene is processed.  Why don’t we go check out the shop?”

“Lead the way, partner.”             


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, if this chapter doesn't make it crystal clear, this is certainly not a case-oriented fic : )

**Day 26**

“Strangers in the night,” Lucifer sang quietly as he sidestepped out of the elevator.  “Exchanging glances,” he continued as he danced through a half circle.  “Wondering in the night what were the chances.”  He adjusted his cuff links as he all but bounced down the staircase towards the main floor of Lux.  “We’d be sharing…”  His voice trailed off as he spotted a woman with reddish-brown hair sitting on the bar.  Her back was to him and he could not see the profile of her face from his position, but as he neared, he had a feeling he knew the woman.

“Don’t stop singing on my account,” the woman said as she turned to face him.

“Penelope,” he greeted with a wide smile.  “What a lovely surprise.”  She returned his smile as he moved to her side and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.  “Welcome to Lux.”

“Thank you, Lucifer.”

“New movie?” he asked, smiling as he pointed to her hair.  She nodded.  “Lovely.  I look forward to it.  May I offer you a drink?”  She tipped her head.

“Isn’t it a little early for anything stronger than coffee?”

“Oh, it’s never too early,” he said with a gentle laugh.

“Well, either way, I will pass.  Thank you.”

“Very well.  The detective didn’t tell me you were in town,” he said as he took residence on the stool next to her.

“It was a surprise,” she said with a wink.  “I had some unexpected time off.  But even if she had known, I don’t suppose she would have told you since neither of you are talking to the other.”  Lucifer’s smile fell.

“Heard about that, did you?”

“Every bit of it.”  Penelope shifted to face him fully as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.  “You saved my daughter’s life, Lucifer.  And I am forever thankful to you for that.  But, you hurt my little girl, and that makes me not your biggest fan.”

“Right,” he said with a nod.

“What you said about Chloe during Perry Smith’s trial…did you mean that?”

“Every word.”

“And what about what you said on the beach?”  She smiled at Lucifer’s surprised expression.  “I told you, I heard every bit of this story.”  She rested an elbow on the top of the bar and leaned her temple against her fist.  “Chloe told me that you guessed her middle name.”

“I did.”

“And that you teased her relentlessly.”

“Yes,” he admitted.

“Because it’s, oh, what did she say?  Impossibly boring?”  He nodded.  “Jane was my mother’s name.”

“I meant no disrespect,” he said quickly.  “I was just—”

“It’s okay, Lucifer,” she laughed lightly.  “Chloe also said that you thought her name was perfect.”  He offered a gentle smile as he thought about the conversation regarding the detective’s middle name.  It had started innocently enough; he had been simply bored during a stakeout and in need of a way to entertain himself.  As the uneventful evening had stretched on, he had found his boredom chased away by the genuine laughter and smiles he had pulled from his partner over his inaccurate guesses.  He had taken every quiet moment during the remainder of that week to make a guess, reveling in the eye rolls and the laughter and the gentle slaps to his arm.  Yet through all of the amusement, the most important moment had come that Friday, during a late evening session of reviewing case notes at his penthouse, when he revealed a surprise he had held all week.

_“I know it’s not Gwendolyn,” Lucifer started as he handed Chloe a glass of wine.  She accepted the glass with a smile and then shook her head._

_“Definitely not Gwendolyn.”_

_“Or Carina,” he said as he sat beside her._

_“Nope,” she laughed lightly.  “You’ll never guess it.”  He shrugged as he leaned forward to place his wine glass on the coffee table._

_“Detective,” he started quietly.  “I have a confession to make.”  He shifted a little closer to her and settled his arm along the back of the sofa behind her shoulders._

_“Do you?”_

_“I do.”  Chloe took a drink of her wine and nodded slowly as she studied him._

_“Okay,” she said.  “Lay it on me.”_

_“I’ve been purposely guessing the wrong name all week,” he admitted.  “I guessed your middle name first try.”_

_“You did not.”  She shook her head emphatically.  “I’m pretty sure your first guess was Bertha.  My middle name is **not** Bertha.”_

_“That was my second guess,” he said around a low chuckle.  “Do you still have that piece of paper I gave you during our incredible waste of time you called a stakeout?”_

_“Yes,” she answered slowly._

_“You didn’t peak at it, did you?” he asked with mock sternness._

_“I promised not to.”  She handed him her glass and shifted to dig a folded piece of green paper from her front jean pocket.  “I kept it on me, just like you asked.”_

_“Good.  Open it.”  She narrowed her eyes at him and he tapped his finger on her shoulder.  “Just open it.”_

_“Fine.”  She unfolded each of the three creases in turn and read the word written across the middle.  “Lucifer,” she breathed as her smile fell.  “How did you…”  She lifted her eyes to his.  “You **had** to have asked someone.”_

_“I swear I asked no one.  I hadn’t even given it thought until the stakeout.”  She looked at the paper again, the disbelief still showing across her features.  “Jane,” he scoffed lightly.  “Impossibly boring,” he said before taking a drink of her wine.  She tipped her head and raised an eyebrow.  “Fitting for you, though,” he quickly stated._

_“Are you saying I’m boring?”_

_“Not at all.  You are quite the opposite, darling.”  He pulled his hand from the back of the sofa to brush a stray lock of hair from her face.  “It’s simply perfectly yours.”_

“Because it is,” he stated.

“Tell me, Lucifer,” Penelope started, “how do you go from thinking and saying something so sweet to being such a dick?”

**Lucifer**

“She’s angry with me,” Lucifer started as he stared absently at the floor.  “Mama Decker, angry with the devil.”

“You hurt he daughter, Lucifer,” Linda stated.  “Anger is a very normal and relevant reaction.”

“Yes,” he said with a slow nod.  She watched him carefully, studied the confusion and the sadness that floated in turn over his features.  He struggled with each, the moment of understanding so far from his reach.  She felt some empathy for him, knowing he was new to the emotions he experienced.  Yet she knew he was one to learn the hard way and that she could not break him of that deeply ingrained part of his personality.

“That’s not what’s bothering you, is it?” she asked knowingly.

“No.”  He shifted his position on the sofa, his eyes still transfixed to the spot on the floor.  “Penelope told me a story,” he replied.  “About when she first met the detective’s father.”

“John, right?”

“Yes.  She said that neither she nor John had not been looking for love or a significant other, or even a fling,” he said, gesturing with a roll of his wrist.  “They were simply enjoying their newly established careers.  Yet when she met John…”  He looked at Linda.  “She said the first time she saw him, she knew they were meant to be together, made for each other; that they would have something special.  Which they did.”  He frowned.  “They found out early in their marriage that they couldn’t have children and when she discovered she was pregnant with Chloe…”  A wry smile hit his face.  “She called the detective a gift from God.  If she only knew how spot on she was,” he muttered as he looked away.  “She said life is too short for regrets.”  He lifted his eyes to the doctor again.  “Then she slapped me, Mama Decker _slapped_ me and told me I would do myself good to remember that.”  Linda roughly bit the inside of her cheek to keep the smile from her face.

“Interesting,” she said with a nod.  “What meaning does her story hold for you?”

“Well, it’s proof of just how far my father’s manipulations reach.”

“I’m sorry.”  Her eyebrows lifted.  “What?”

“Chloe was placed in my path.  She’s the product of a blessing Father bestowed upon a couple who could not conceive.  Yet He didn’t bless just any two humans.  No.”  He waved his index finger in the air.  “He blessed two humans who were ‘made for each other’.  He placed Penelope and John in each other’s paths _purposely_ as to have means to create Chloe and have her cross _my_ path.”

“Lucifer,” Linda sighed.  “Doesn’t that seem…. _really_ far-fetched?”

“You don’t know Father,” he said with a shake of his head.  “Who knows how many generations of humans He’s coupled to create the detective.”

“I think you’ve missed the point of Penelope’s story.  Entirely.”

“Really?”  He sat back into the sofa’s cushions and folded his hands over his lap.  “Please,” he started.  “Enlighten me.”

“I will,” she said with a curt nod.  “Most humans don’t dwell on the fact that our lives are finite.  The death of a loved one often times brings out the things we regret.  Maybe we said something we shouldn’t have said or did something we shouldn’t have done, and didn’t apologize for the pain it caused.  Maybe there were things we _didn’t_ say that we wished our loved one knew.  Or maybe we wished we would have or could have spent more time with that loved one.  Chloe’s dad was, what, in his early forties when he died?”  He nodded.  “That’s _really_ young, Lucifer.  He had a lot of years left, a lot of years that he and Chloe’s mom could have spent together.”  He features sobered.

“Things we didn’t say,” he repeated.  Linda nodded.  “Things such as…well, maybe agreeing to a break-up that neither party wanted?”

“Yes.”  _Finally,_ she thought.  “That is a _very_ good example.”

“I understand now,” he said.

“Just to be clear, what, exactly, do you understand?”

“How to get Miss Reed to confess.”  He stood and started towards the door.

“Lucifer!” she called as he left the room.  She scoffed a sigh and threw her hands in the air.  “Who the _hell_ is Miss Reed?”

**Lucifer**

“Lucifer,” Dan greeted with a cheery smile as he stopped on the main landing of the staircase.  “I was just going to call you.”  Lucifer met the detective and took the offered file folder.  “Mark Taylor’s phone records,” he explained as Lucifer read over the first of several pages.  “A few phone calls to his wife’s number, but _a lot_ of texts to someone else’s.”

“May I assume this someone else is Miss Reed?” he asked hopefully.

“You may,” he answered.  Dan reached towards the folder and flipped to the next page.  Lucifer’s eyes roamed over the information, a very long, very explicit texted conversation between Mark and Miss Reed, wherein both parties spoke of the sexual fantasies they wanted to share with one another.  “It isn’t enough to prove she killed Mark and Anna, but it’s a great excuse to question her again.”  He flipped to another page.  “And then there’s this.”

“Oh.”  Lucifer’s eyebrows rose as he read a rough draft of a contract.  “Well, this is interesting.”

“It sure is.”  Lucifer closed the folder and handed it back to Dan.

“I learned something this morning, Daniel,” he began as they started down the second set of stairs.  “Something I believe we can use to get Miss Reed to tell us the truth.”

“Great,” Dan replied with a nod.  “You can tell me on the way.”

**Lucifer**

“Miss Reed,” Dan started, “I appreciate you taking the time to speak with us again.”  She nodded as she placed a full coffee mug in front of him and Lucifer.

“Of course,” she started, moving to the other side of the table to take her seat.  “Anything I can do to help you find the person that murdered Mark and Anna.”

“We came across a large number of texts from Anna’s phone to a number we can’t trace,” Dan began.  “The conversations were very straight forward.  She was having an affair.”  Miss Reed nodded slowly.

“I always suspected,” she said quietly.  Lucifer shifted in his chair.

“Did you ever confront Mark with your suspicions?”

“Once,” she replied.  “He brushed it off but he and Anna didn’t speak for three days after that.  I never asked, but assumed he had asked her about it.”  Dan nodded slowly and turned to Lucifer.  The devil gave the detective a pointed look, neither needing to speak to agree they believed she was lying.

“Did Anna know about you and Mark?” Dan asked.  She cleared her throat as her finger traced the rim of her coffee mug.

“If she did, she never said anything about it.”

“Okay, so Anna’s having an affair with…someone,” he said.  “And Mark’s having an affair with you.  And no one really seems to care.”

“I guess not.”  She shrugged lightly and took a sip of her coffee.

“That’s not entirely the truth, though,” Lucifer chimed in.  “Is it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe no one cared at first,” he replied, “but something happened, something changed, and all of a sudden _you_ cared.  _A lot_.”  Miss Reed offered a small, quiet chuckle.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  Dan opened the folder sitting on the table in front of him and pushed it towards her.

“Mark and Anna wanted to buy out your part of the business,” Dan said.  “Then they were going to sell it and move.”  Her eyes roamed over the contract Dan supplied her.

“They were considering it,” she said.  “Nothing was set in stone.”

“Another incomplete story,” Lucifer said.  Miss Reed rolled her eyes and pinned him with an unamused glare.  He smiled and placed his forearms on the table.  “Tell me, my dear,” he started lowly as he leaned forward, “what do you desire?”  Her head tipped to the side, her eyes narrowed slightly in thought.  “What have you always wanted that you regret not going after?”

“Mark,” she answered.  “All I’ve ever wanted was to have Mark all to myself.”

“The break-up,” he pushed, “so long ago…”

“Yes,” she whispered.  “I regret breaking up.  We would have been fine, would have survived whatever came our way.”

“But you couldn’t survive Anna, could you?”  She shook the fog from her head and turned her attention to Dan.

“Mark was happy; that’s all that mattered,” she replied.  “I stayed out of the way.”  She looked down at her hands.  “Until Mark came to me about a year ago, saying he missed me, missed _us_.”

“And then you told him you thought Anna was having an affair,” Dan supplied.  She nodded.

“I thought if he knew about her affair then he would leave her and we could be together.  He stopped talking to me after that.”  She pushed the folder back towards Dan.  “Then he came to me with this.  Mark always said the sweetest things to me.  He said we were meant to be together, made for each other.”  Lucifer’s seated posture stiffened.  “We were going to get married.  Until Mark decided our ‘meant to be together’ meant as business partners.”  She stood and moved to the counter, her back towards the men.  “And this last year,” she continued as she opened a drawer and removed a spoon.  “Well…I do regret agreeing to break up with Mark way back then.  But I regret one thing more than that.”  Miss Reed turned quickly towards Dan and Lucifer, gun in hand, switching her aim between both of them.

“Whoa,” Dan said as he pushed his chair back and drew his own weapon.

“All these years later,” she started as Lucifer slowly stood, raising his hands to shoulder level.  “I thought he really cared about me, loved me.  But I never mattered to him.  I regret that I let him use me.  I regret that I let him hurt me again.”

“We all have regrets, Miss Reed,” he said carefully.  “Murder doesn’t make them go away.”

“Murder would have made Anna go away,” she countered.  “But Mark got in the way.”  Lucifer slowly moved to his right, drawing Miss Reed’s attention as Dan moved to the left.  “He stood there, pleading for her life, and all I could think about was how much he hurt me, how he took away everything I loved when we broke up.  I wanted him to feel that pain, too.  I wanted to take away what he loved most.  He jumped in front of Anna just as I started shooting.”  Lucifer carefully shifted his eyes over her shoulder as Dan slowly moved into place behind her.  “Oh God,” she started with a cry as she lowered the gun.  “I killed him.  I killed Mark.”  Dan holstered his firearm and quickly wrapped his arm around Miss Reed as she began her breakdown and quickly pulled the gun from her hands.  He secured the weapon just inside the waist of his pants and pulled a set of handcuffs from his back pocket.  “What have I done?” she whispered as tears filled her eyes.

“Well,” Lucifer said as he dropped his hands.  “You’ll have plenty of time to think about that once you’re behind bars.”

**Lucifer**

“One more nicely solved case under your belt,” Lucifer started as he reached across the bar and handed Dan a tumbler of brandy.  “No refusing,” he quickly stated as Dan opened his mouth to speak.  “A job well done deserves celebration,” he smiled.

“Thanks.”  Dan returned the smile and took the proffered drink.  “Also, you didn’t die of boredom from sticking around for the paperwork and processing.”

“Very true,” he smiled.  “I honestly never thought that would be the case.”

“Well, now you know better.”

“Indeed.”

“You know,” Dan stated, “today was…a lot of fun.”

“Oh?  Having a gun pointed at you is your idea of fun?”  Lucifer conceded with a tip of his head.  “To each his own, I suppose.  I certainly won’t judge,” he said as he lifted his glass to his lips.

“No,” Dan laughed with a wave of his hand.  “That’s not what I meant.  Since my demotion…I’ve been involved in a lot of investigations, handled a lot of interrogations, but it’s been a long time since I’ve taken down a perp as lead detective.  It feels good to be…to be back.”  He took a drink.  “Well, for as long as it lasts, at least.  We did a good job, man.”

“Yes, we did,” Lucifer agreed with a smile.  Dan lifted his glass, slightly tipping it in Lucifer’s direction.

“To Douchifer,” he toasted around a chuckle.

“To Douchifer.”  They shared a quiet laugh as they tapped the edges of their glasses and took a drink to complete the toast.

“I’m going to level with you, Lucifer.”  He placed his glass on the bar top and kept his eyes focused on the liquid inside.  “I’m not as oblivious as everyone seems to think.  I know you have a thing for Chloe.  And I’m pretty sure she has a thing for you.”  He looked up at Lucifer.  “But it’s more than that, more than a thing, isn’t it?”  Lucifer looked away.

“You needn’t worry about that,” he said.  “There’s nothing between the detective and myself to get in the way of the two of you reviving your relationship.”

“Reviving our…what are you talking about?”

“You and Detective Decker seem to have grown rather close this last month,” he explained.  “Having dinner dates once a week.  Who knows what else,” he said, bringing his glass to his mouth for a rather long sip of brandy.

“Lucifer,” Dan laughed lightly.  “Okay.  I’m always going to love Chloe, Lucifer.  We didn’t divorce because we hated each other.  We’re not together because that’s not who we are, not who we were meant to be.  But we’re still friends, and she _is_ the mother of my child, so yeah, I love her.  But these dinner dates?”  He laughed again.  “Planned family time.  For Trixie,” he clarified.  “It helped during the separation, and Chloe and I agreed to continue for a little while longer.”  Lucifer nodded slowly.

“So you’re not…”

“No, we’re not.”  He shook his head gently as he regarded Lucifer.  “I know you know we do that for Trixie.  You’ve said several times that you don’t understand why we have to ‘keep the hellion appeased’.”

“Yes,” Lucifer nodded.  “I did know that and I did say that.”

“So what gave you the impression that, uh, that Chloe and I were…”

“Oh.”  He cleared his throat and looked away.  “The detective,” he said with a shrug.  “She may have…hinted at it.”

“Hmm.  Was that before or after Candy Morningstar?”

“After,” he answered after a moment of thought.

“Okay.  I don’t know what happened between you and Chloe,” Dan started, “but this back and forth between the two of you is ridiculous.”  He held up a hand, preventing Lucifer from speaking.  “I buy your story about Witness Protection.”

“As you should,” he said pointedly.  “I don’t lie.”

“Right.  But Witness Protection isn’t the whole story, is it?  I mean, you wouldn’t have needed to marry Candy to get her out of Vegas or even to help her hide until the agents could relocate her.  So why would you, the very face of everything non-committal, marry Candy?  It was all show for Chloe, right?”  Lucifer said nothing.  “Answer me, Lucifer.”  He still offered no response.  Dan dropped his gaze and tapped his fingers on the bar top.  “I’m trying really hard not to be incredibly pissed at you, Lucifer, because I can’t be an impartial friend to Chloe if I’m angry at you.”  He looked up and met Lucifer’s eyes.  “I can’t be a friend to you.”

“Friend to me?” he questioned.

“We haven’t always seen eye to eye, and I’m sure that won’t change, but we’ve developed…a decent friendship.  Haven’t we?”

“I suppose we have.”

“Then tell me why you’ve pushed Chloe away.”

“There’s a reason I did what I did, Daniel.  And before you ask, it goes well beyond anything you would understand.”

“Today, you saw first-hand just how destructive regrets can be.  As your friend, I’m telling you to think about your own list.  Before it consumes you.”

“Oh, Lucifer.”  He and Dan turned towards the trio of young women approaching the bar.

“Ah,” Lucifer sighed with a smile.  “The Brittanys.  Did the bouncer let you in early?  Again?”

“Yes,” they giggled in unison.

“Lucifer,” the blond Brittany started, “who’s your friend?”

“My friend,” he smiled as he regarded Dan.  “Ladies, this is Daniel.  He’s a detective,” he said with a rise of his eyebrows.

“Really?”  The three woman circled Dan, one to each side, one behind him, their hands finding places to rest along his arms and shoulders.  “Do you have a badge?”

“Um, yes,” he responded with a nervous smile.  “Yes, I do.”

“Can we turn on the music, Lucifer?”

“Why of course, Ladies.”  He smiled as the women pulled Dan from his barstool.

“Come dance with us, Detective Daniel.”

“Oh.  Uh, no.  I should really get going,” he said, trying to detach himself from their soft grips.

“Nonsense,” Lucifer stated.  “Stay for a bit.  Dance with the girls.”

“It’s late,” he stated.  Lucifer leaned an elbow on to the bar and rested his chin in his hand.

“What’s it like having a stick shoved up your ass all the time?” he asked.

“Right.”  Dan offered a curt nod.  “Point taken.”

“Daniel?” he called as the group started towards the dance floor.  The detective turned around and watched Lucifer open his mouth to speak.  Instead of words, he closed his mouth around a sigh.  Lucifer shrugged and slowly shook his head.  Dan offered a gentle smile and nodded.

“I’m here.  Anytime you need me,” he said.  “Just talk to Chloe.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Day 35**

“There are plenty of ways you could have distanced yourself from Chloe,” Linda started.  She smoothed her hands over the back of her skirt as she sat in her chair.  “Why did you pick marrying another woman?”

“I don’t lie, Doctor,” Lucifer answered.  “I couldn’t very well show up with Candy on my arm and introduce her as my wife if she wasn’t really my wife.”  He snickered quietly.

“Ugh, just go ahead and say it,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“Arm Candy,” he laughed gently.

“Got it all out of your system now?”

“Yes.”

“Great.  You don’t lie; I understand that,” she said with a nod.  “What I’m asking is why that’s the avenue you chose.  You could have simply told Chloe that you didn’t want to have that type of relationship with her.”  He pursued his lips and shook his head.  “Right,” she said pointedly.  “You couldn’t because that’s a lie.  So you could have said you _couldn’t_ be together.  And saved yourself and the detective a lot of heartache in the process.”

“Couldn’t, shouldn’t,” he remarked with a roll of his eyes.  “I tried that once already.  On the beach, remember?  The detective still chose to kiss me.”  He motioned towards her.  “Weren’t you the one that said she may simply be taken with me?”

“I did indeed say that,” she confirmed.

“Then how else was I supposed to make sure she was…not taken?”

“Lucifer, I think that you’ve become so…attached to the notion that you didn’t have and don’t deserve love that you sabotage yourself, you _purposely_ deny yourself that type of affection.”

“That’s preposterous.”

“Is it?  Instead of coming clean and telling Chloe the truth, as a whole or partially,” she said before he could argue, “you picked the most extreme thing you could have done.  You came back married to another woman, and then you flaunted that in front of Chloe.”

“What was I supposed to tell the detective?” he asked.  “Hmm?  Right.  We can’t be together.  What’s that?” he started, cupping a hand behind his ear.  “Why?  Well, darling, as I’ve told you many, many, _many_ times before, I am the devil.  I threw a rather large wrench in Father’s plans when I left Hell.  He, in His infinite know-it-all-ness, knew that would happen and created the perfect trap to force my return.  He created you.  He made you irresistible to His supposed favorite son, and then He robbed you of your free will and filled your head with feelings for dear ol’ me.  And I believe He’s using those feelings, this…concocted connection of ours, to manipulate me into returning to Hell.  So, you and I,” he continued with a shrug and a lift of his hands, “no dice.”

“You are such a drama queen, Lucifer.”

“I beg your pardon,” he started with an angry frown.

“Let’s talk about your job with the LAPD.”  She tipped her head with the change of subject.  “You’re still working as a consultant.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because Daniel asked nicely.”

“Hmm.  You’ve always held a…less than appreciative opinion of Dan,” she started.  “What’s changed?”

“Nothing,” he replied.  “Devil, punishment.  We kind of go hand in hand,” he said with a wink.

“Lucifer,” she warned carefully.  He sighed and took a moment to put together his response.

“A lot has changed, I suppose,” he answered with a rise of his eyebrows.  “We came to an understanding of…of sorts.  Over pudding, of all things.  And my sister’s rather nasty knife.”  He offered a smile, small and soft before it filled with sadness.  “Daniel said he is my friend.  He wants to be…a shoulder regarding my situation with the detective.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“I was…surprised…by his offer.  Also, by my acceptance.  I never considered that I would _need_ a friend.  For anything, really.  Present company excluded, of course,” he said with a tip of his hand towards her.  “No offense.”

“None taken,” she said with a slight shake of her head.  “You and I have a very unique relationship; very different from the others who are close to you.”  He nodded with a kind smile, and then his features sobered.

“Detective Douche is that last person I would have thought a friend.  He said I should tell Detective Decker about the Candy situation.  He thinks it would ease some of the tension between the detective and I.”

“I think that’s a good suggestion.”

“It wasn’t merely a suggestion,” he explained.  “He made me _promise_ that I would tell her.  But I…”  He sighed.  “I don’t want to.  Telling the detective defeats the purpose of driving the wedge.  She needs to be free of me so she is free to make her own choices.”  Linda hummed and nodded.

“Free of you.”

“Yes.”

“So let me go back to my original question, why are you still working for the LAPD?”

“I told you, because Dan asked nicely for my help on a case.”

“You’re working the same job you had when you were partners with Chloe.  You’re working in the same building.  You’re working with her ex, who is still very much a part of her life.  And doesn’t Dan investigate cases with Chloe from time to time, also?”

“Quite often,” he answered carefully.  Linda sat back in her chair.

“You’re putting yourself in a position to be around Chloe.”

“I most certainly am not.”

“You are.  Subconsciously, maybe.  Or maybe you’re hip-deep in denial.  But that’s what you’re doing.  How is Chloe supposed to be free of you if you’re still around?”  She leaned forward, placing her elbow on her knee as she rested her chin in her palm.  “Then there’s the small matter of Dan making you promise to tell Chloe about Candy.  You are the _devil_ ,” she said pointedly.  “How does a human make the devil _promise_ to do something he doesn’t want to do?”  Lucifer’s posture stiffened and he opened his mouth to answer the question.  Before he could form any words, he released a quick breath and looked away.  “You _want_ to tell Chloe what’s happened; you _want_ to be completely honest with her.  About everything.  Don’t you?”

“Telling her the truth in its entirety would upset her,” he said quietly.  “Haven’t I hurt her enough already?”

“Then start small,” she offered.  “As you promised Dan, tell Chloe about Candy.”  Lucifer shook his head.

“No.”

“Then you’re breaking your promise.  I thought your word was your bond,” she challenged.

“It is,” he responded emphatically.  “But Daniel didn’t hold me to a timeline.  He didn’t specify _when_ I had to tell her.”

“You can’t run from this forever, Lucifer.”

“I can certainly try.”

**Lucifer**

“Daniel,” Lucifer greeted cheerily as he approached the male detective’s desk.  “I’m so happy you called this morning.  What juicy murder have you for us today?”

“Uh, unfortunately, I don’t have anything…for us, Lucifer.  I’m actually headed out to help Henderson.”  He lifted his eyes from the papers in his hand.

“You did call, did you not?” Lucifer asked with a frown.

“I did,” Dan nodded.

“Did I misunderstand when you said you had a case for us to work?”

“Nope.”  Dan smiled.

“You lied to me.”

“Maybe.”

“I do not like liars, Daniel,” he scolded.  “I thought we were friends.  Friends don’t lie to one another.”

“Sometimes they do,” he argued gently.  “When it’s in the best interest for the other friend.  Chloe has a new case,” he quickly stated, giving the devil no room to debate.  “You should give her a hand.”

“Detective…Decker,” he mumbled, turning to see the woman taking a seat at her desk.  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said, turning back to Dan.  “We’re not really—”

“It’ll be fine, Lucifer.  Henderson and I should be done with this in a couple of days tops.”  He slipped the papers into a manila folder and shrugged.  “I’m sure you and I will be able to snag another case by then.”  Lucifer shoved his hands into his pants pockets.

“I know what you’re doing, Daniel,” he started.

“Yeah?”  Dan offered a large smile.  “And what is that?”

“Forcing me to work with Detective Decker is _not_ going to make me tell her about Candy.”

“We’ll see, won’t we?  Besides,” he started as he moved around the desk, “you promised.”  He slapped Lucifer’s arm with the folder.  “Go get ‘em.”  Lucifer rolled his eyes as Dan walked away.  With a sigh, he turned and focused on Chloe.  She hastily sifted through the top drawer of her desk before slamming it shut and repeating the actions with the second drawer.  With a frustrated growl, she slammed that drawer, too, and crouched to begin searching the bottom drawer.  Reluctantly, Lucifer made his way to her desk.  She would not agree to work with him, he knew, but at least he could tell Dan he had given it the good old college try and then maybe the male detective would forget about the promise they had made.

“Detective?” Lucifer called gently.  He placed his hands on the top of her desk, balancing his weight on his fingertips as he peered over the piece of furniture.  “What are you doing?”

“I can’t find my stupid notepad,” she spat.  “It’s been missing for…damn it!”  She stood suddenly and pulled a few tissues from the box on the corner of the desktop.  “Almost two weeks,” she finished.  He watched with an inquisitive knit to his forehead as she wrapped the tissues around her middle finger.  The curiosity quickly turned to concern as a splotch of red appeared on the tissue and steadily grew in size.

Flashbacks of the night they had discovered the detective had been poisoned hit Lucifer with a fierceness he would not have expected.  He had given plenty of thought to the incident during his stay in Las Vegas, and every day since his return, unable to wipe the memory from his mind.  There had been so much blood, dripping over her top lip, staining her fingers and her shirt.  The anger he had held upon reaching her apartment had turned instantly into fear.  The terror in her eyes had mirrored that which consumed his body.  Subconsciously holding his breath, Lucifer stepped around the desk, quickly moving to her side and reaching for her injured hand.

“Detective, are you—”

“I’m fine,” she said, pulling away from him.  “It’s just a papercut.”  She kicked the bottom drawer to shut it and sighed angrily.

“Your notepad…the small…small, green one?” he started, making an awkward square shape with his fingers.

“Yeah.”  Chloe narrowed her eyes as Lucifer reached into the inside pocket of his suitcoat and pulled out a spiral-ringed notepad with a worn green cover.  She ripped it from his hand and leafed through the pages.  “Why do you have this?”

“You gave it to me.”  She shook her head and frowned.  “When we were on our way to rescue Jenna Peters,” he explained.  “Well, threw it at me more than gave it to me, really.  Which seems to be happening a lot lately,” he mumbled.  “I didn’t think to give it back.”  Chloe remained quiet for a moment, watching as he dropped his eyes to avoid hers, as he adjusted the lapels of his suitcoat in distraction.  She turned her attention to the cut on her finger.  Satisfied the minimal bleeding had stopped, she wadded up the tissues and threw them into the wire wastebasket next to her desk.

“Have you been carrying this around since then?” she asked quietly.

“I have.”

“And you didn’t think to give it to me?” she asked, the tone of her voice suggesting she didn’t believe him.

“Slipped my mind, I guess.  We haven’t really…seen each other much as of late.”  She hummed quietly and nodded.

“How’s…how’s working with Dan?”

“Good,” he answered with a short nod.  “We’re getting along rather nicely.  Well, until this morning.  I was supposed to meet him for a case but he seems to have ditched me.”

“Yeah.  He’s…he’s working on some drug thing with Henderson.”  Lucifer nodded.

“Right.  Well, I’ll be on my way then,” he said as he turned and started to walk away.

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly.  He turned to her and swept his hands through the air.  “Somewhere I’m needed.”  He turned again and continued walking.

“You could…help _me_ ,” Chloe offered carefully.  Lucifer stopped and dropped his head slightly.  He closed his eyes and fought back an anguished frown.  “I mean if…i-if you want to.”  Of course he wanted to; he had never _not_ wanted to.  Still, he had to say no; he _had_ to keep the distance between them.  The pleading look in her honest, blue eyes struck him as he turned to face her again.  “Five bodies,” she said with a shrug.  “U-unless you’d rather go…”  And he couldn’t turn down the offer.

“Clearly someone needs to be punished,” he said quietly.  “I don’t suppose I can let that go unhandled.”

“Unhandled?”  She shook her head with disbelief.  “I _can_ do my job, you know.”

“Right.  Of course.”  She rounded the desk and moved to his side.  “That’s not what I meant.”  She waved off any forthcoming explanation with a gesture of her hand and a shake of her head.  He held out his arm.  “After you.”

**Lucifer**

Under the guise of professionalism, Chloe tried to hold the frustration from her face, from her body language.  Yet she felt that if she didn’t do something to alleviate the exasperation, she would explode.  She rolled her shoulders, allowing the movement to loosen the extra length of fabric of her coat sleeves.  As the cuffs fell past her hands, her fingers immediately curled, then straightened, then curled again.  She repeated the motions as she and Lucifer walked through the factory towards the scene of the crime.

Chloe didn’t know what she had been expecting when she had extended Lucifer the opportunity to help with her case.  She did not want things between them to be the way they used to be.  She didn’t feel he deserved such kind-heartedness after the things he had said to her.  She also did not want things to be tense and awkward.  She didn’t deserve anymore stress over the situation.  Chloe had realized shortly after they had started the drive to the factory that whatever she may have been anticipating didn’t really matter.  In the end, every scenario did nothing but fuel her anger.

Lucifer, for his part, had been quiet during the drive.  He had not asked any questions about the case or about her thoughts on the subject.  He had simply focused his attention through the passenger window and kept it there for the duration of the journey.  Chloe had wondered what he had been thinking, had been tempted to ask.  One question in particular had pushed its way to the front of her thoughts.  _What does he want?_   After all the words spoken, all the actions taken, she could not piece together a solid explanation of why Lucifer had agreed to work the case with her and had assumed he had seen opportunity of some sort in the arrangement.  The longer she had given it thought, the longer her anger stirred and any urge she had possessed to know what was bouncing around in his head had vanished.

As Chloe caught the faint sounds of her co-workers’ voices, she took a deep breath and tried to clear her head.  She had five murders to investigate; she did not have time to worry about the mental ramblings of her partner.  Former partner, she inwardly corrected.  Former partner, former friend.  All-time selfish asshole.  Following her silent insult, she dared in look in Lucifer’s direction.  His head was down, eyes trained on the floor, hands shoved snuggly in his pockets.  The frown across his forehead was deep.  He was distressed, and she had to use all of her strength to force her concern over his well-being to the far corners of her mind.

Chloe stopped just outside the flurry of officers and forensics personnel, and surveyed the scene.  Five bodies lay scattered across the worn concrete floor of the factory.  Three males rested on their fronts, another on his side.  The fifth victim was slumped into a fetal position, leaning face-first against the thick concrete pillar that supported a portion of the building’s high ceiling.  She could see bullet wounds on the two men closest to her, riddled across their lower backs, and suspected the others suffered the same injuries.

“Detective Decker?”  Chloe turned and nodded to the short, stocky officer approaching her. 

“Hey, Pete.”

“Don’t have much to report,” he started.  “We’ve cleared the building.  No sign of a shooter.  Also, no sign of a weapon.”  Pete shrugged.  “I have my crew searching the grounds.  If it’s here, we’ll find it.”  She nodded again.

“Who called it in?” she asked.

“Uh, Lucas…Lucas Mason.  He’s a first shift supervisor; one of the six that opened the factory for the day.”  Pete threw a thumb over his shoulder.  “They’re all out front by my squad car.”

“These guys worked overnights?” she asked.  Pete nodded.  “Do they have an overnight security guard?”  He nodded again and pointed towards the body against the pillar.

“That would be him right there.”

“Great.”  Chloe bit at her bottom lip.  “Thanks, Pete.  I’ll be out in a few minutes to talk to the supervisors.”  Carefully stepping forward as not to disrupt any potential evidence, Chloe made her way through to mess to the lead forensic tech, crouched over one of the bodies.

“Hey, Ella,” Chloe greeted quietly.  The dark-haired woman looked up and offered a skewed smile in greeting.  “Do you have anything for me yet?”

“A decent picture, I think,” she answered as she stood.  Ella cocked her head to the side, looking just over Chloe’s right shoulder.  “Are you…are you working with Lucifer again?”  Chloe turned and spotted Lucifer on the far side of the scene, standing next to the victim laying on his side.  Lucifer’s hands were still in his pockets, the frown still on his face, but it was clear to Chloe that his concentration was now on the case and no longer on whatever abstract thoughts he’d had after leaving the precinct.

“No,” she replied as she turned back to Ella.

“Oh.”  Ella nodded slowly.  “Then he’s here because…”  She shrugged at the riled expression on Chloe’s face.  “Know what?  Who’s keeping track, anyway?  Right?  So…”  She gestured through the air with her gloved hands.  “Bullets,” she stated.  “Everywhere.  These dudes?  Gunned down.”  Ella pointed flippantly.  “The one by your partner-not-partner, perforated.  Point of entry in the back on all of them, so their backs were to the shooter, probably running away.  And,” she continued as she turned to her right, “the shots were fired from an elevated angle.”  Chloe turned to her left and lifted her eyes as Ella did.

“A catwalk,” she murmured.  “Great.  Thanks, Ella.”

“You bet.”  Chloe waited for a moment, watched as Ella returned to her team and directed them through the rest of the crime scene, before lifting her eyes to the catwalk again.  After a moment, she dropped her gaze and spun in a slow circle as she took in the positions of the bodies.

“Detective?” Lucifer called quietly as he moved to her side.  “Do you suppose these men had regrets?”  She sighed and turned to him.

“I suppose,” she answered.  “I would bet most people do.”

“Hmm.  Interesting.”  He slipped a hand in his pocket and motioned towards her with the other.  “Do you?”  Chloe pinned him with an angry glare and walked away.  “I’ll take that as a resounding ‘yes’,” he said as he followed her past the pillar.  “Where are we going?”

“To the staircase to that catwalk,” she said, motioning with a choppy flick of her hand.  “Looks like our shooter may have been—”  Chloe stopped talking, stopped moving as the fluorescent lights in the factory began to shut down section by section.

“Detective?” Lucifer questioned quietly.  “Not good?”

“Not good.”  She drew her firearm as she turned in the direction of the group.  “Everyone out!” she yelled.  “Now!”  The last cluster of lights flicked off as the officers and techs scrambled towards the exits.  Chloe held out her hand, feeling her way through the air until her palm made contact with the pillar.  She ducked against the column out of instinct as a bullet hit a large piece of machinery not far from her position.  “Shit,” she whispered.  Leaning heavily against the pillar, she stood and managed two steps before a thickly shadowed figure of an arm appeared in front of her.  It pushed her arms downwards, pinning them to her torso as it wrapped around her waist, and in process, knocking the gun from her hand.  Her lips parted, prepared to scream, to yell for help, as her captor began pulling her backwards but a hand covered her mouth, stunting her efforts.  She moved carefully through guided movements, turning and stumbling through a few more steps backwards.  When they both stopped, her back was against something solid, something warm.

“Stay still,” a male voice whispered in her ear.  She did as told until she winced as a round of bullets bounced off a second piece of factory equipment somewhere to her right.  The male detaining her tightened his hold around her, pulling her snuggly to his chest.  He turned them slightly to the left, curling his upper body around hers as he tried to shield her from possible ricochets.  As they returned to a straightened posture, Chloe took a moment to clear her head and consider the man restraining her.  He had some height on her, six, seven inches, and his hold was overwhelming but gentle.  “Still,” he repeated quietly.  She felt a soft prickle of stubble along the shell of her ear as a smooth English accent registered.  She caught the smell of cologne, dry yet fresh.

Familiar.

Chloe’s shoulders dropped with relief as she realized Lucifer was the man holding her.  He moved around her, pressing her backwards into the pillar as he appeared before her.  His hand remained over her mouth as he met her eyes.  He hoped her vision had made use of the bit of light coming in through the dirty windows high above the floor, adjusting enough to know without a doubt that he was the one before her.  The expression of aggravation on her face confirmed that potential, yet something beneath the surface of her frustration bothered him.

“Good?” he asked gently.  She nodded vigorously in response.  As his hand dropped from her mouth, she pushed him away and tried to round the pillar.  He quickly recovered and grabbed her forearms.  “I’d much rather you stay put,” he said as he forced her against the pillar again.

“I have to find the shooter, Lucifer,” she hissed.  Three more shots rang out around them and they ducked against each other.  He turned her to face the column and placed his left hand on her hip as he guided her to the right side of the stack.  He stayed close to her body as he flattened his right palm against the concrete.

“Look up,” he whispered in her ear.  “Straight ahead.”  Her eyes immediately did as commanded but as she tried to move around the pillar, to keep the shooter in her line of sight as he moved along the catwalk, Lucifer’s arm remained firmly in its place, keeping her within the minimal security offered by the support.  Chloe nodded and slowly turned back to him.  His hand moved from her hip to press against the column, effectively caging her between his arms.

“We have to get up there,” she said.

“No, we don’t.”

“Yes, we do, Lucifer.”

“We have no way around this situation, Detective.  Is it any coincidence that he has turned off the lights, blinding us, yet he still knows where we are?”  She dropped her eyes and her lips parted as she considered his words.

“He can see us,” she said.  “Night vision?”  Lucifer hummed his agreement.  “It doesn’t matter.  We have to get to him before he hurts anyone else.”  She shifted her stance and tried to move past him.

“And what if he hurts you?” he asked, pinning her in place again.  “Hmm?”

“You are the _last_ person who gets to be concerned about someone hurting me.”  Again, she shoved him backwards and this time, he let her walk away.  He watched her figure as she dropped to the ground and moved through the darkened area to retrieve her firearm.  With an irritated tip of his head, Lucifer clenched his jaw and turned to start in the opposite direction.  The shooter fired three times more, each time aiming for the detective.  With each round of bullets, Lucifer ducked behind the nearest piece of machinery, checking to assure Chloe had the same opportunity.  Satisfied she had ample coverage, he forged on, across the floor to a metal staircase along the far wall, a second spring of steps to the catwalk.

Chloe slid across the floor on her knees as she took cover behind a large, metal desk.  She pressed her back to the flat front and calmed her breathing.  Looking to her right, she spotted a vague outline of a staircase against the wall.  Pulling her gun from its holster, she crawled on her hands and knees to the other end of the desk as her eyes followed the line of the flight of the stairs.  They not only led to the catwalk, but to the shooter as well, as he stood at the top of the landing, waiting for her to make a move.  She pulled back and considered her options.  The desk was the last point of refuge for her.  Once out of the shadow of its safety, she would be a perfect target, and without the assistance of some lighting, any shot she took would literally be blind.

“Oh, Mister Shooter!”  Chloe froze as Lucifer’s voice echoed through the factory.

“Shit,” she whispered.

“Make your move now, Detective!” he called around a very amused chuckle.  The lights turned on with a loud crack and as she squinted against the sudden intrusion of brightness, she heard the shooter scream in pain.  Taking the opportunity without thinking, she jumped from behind the desk, gun drawn as she ran towards the staircase.

“Drop your gun!” she yelled as she took the stairs two at a time.  The shooter scrambled to pull the night-vision goggles from his head and dropped to his knees as the goggles and the firearm hit the metal-grated floor beneath him.  “Don’t move,” she warned as she approached him from behind.  He placed the palms of his heels against his eyes, pressing forcefully.  Keeping her gun trained on the back of the shooter, she reached into her pockets and pulled out a set of handcuffs.

“My, my,” Lucifer started as he strolled up to the pair.  He stopped a few paces in front of them, smiling down at their blinded culprit as he slipped his hands into his pants pockets.  “That was quite the spot of excitement, wasn’t it?”  He shifted his gaze to Chloe.  “Score one for teamwork, eh?”  She clicked the second cuff into place and lifted her annoyed eyes to him.  His smile fell as she holstered her firearm and pulled the man in custody to his feet.  “Thank you for shedding some light on the situation, Lucifer.”  Chloe rolled her eyes at his mockery and turned away, dragging the man with her.  “Way to illuminate the problem, Lucifer,” he called after her as they descended the stairs.  Placing his hand on the railing, he leaned over the edge as he continued to track their movements.  Chloe met two officers at the bottom of the staircase and handed the shooter to them.  “You really brighten my day, Lucifer!”  She stopped walking, clenched her hands at her sides and tipped her head.  “You’re doing that thing with your eye, aren’t you?  That thing where it gets all…”  He scrunched his face and pointed his fingers at his eye.  “All wonky?”  Without looking up or acknowledging him in any way, she continued moving across the factory floor. 

Lucifer sighed softly, sadly, and let his shoulders fall.  The disappointment flowing through his veins burned.  He had simply wanted a pleasant reaction from the detective, a gentle smile, a shake of her head, anything to make even the smallest moment of the painfully awkward morning feel easy, friendly.  Comfortable.  He had not received what he wanted, but he had received exactly what he needed, a harsh reminder that nothing between himself and the detective would be as it once was.  Linda had been right; he _was_ purposely putting himself in Chloe’s proximity.  And he needed to stop.

**Lucifer**

“It was a great move,” Ella said excitedly.  “Like total right out of the movies.  Lucifer was all…”  She moved to the door, flicking the switch near the frame to turn off the light.  “All, ‘Hey, Bad Guy’.”  She flipped on the light.  “And the bad guy?  He was all…”  She covered her eyes with her hands and slowly sank to the floor as she softly imitated a yell.  Smiling, she crossed her legs in front of her body and nodded appreciatively.  “It was way cool, dude.  Way cool.”

“Sounds like it,” Dan breathed through a laugh.  “How did you see that if you and your team evacuated the building?”

“I may or may not have hung out by the doorway,” she said, purposely avoiding eye contact.  “Of course, I couldn’t see anything until Lucifer turned on the lights, but _that_ …that was the best part.”  She stood and absently wiped her hands across the back of her pants.  “Don’t get me wrong,” she started, “Detective Decker equals da bomb, but that guy could have had her holed up in the factory for hours.  I don’t know what Chloe would have done if Lucifer wouldn’t have been there.”

“I’m sure the detective would have fared just fine without me,” Lucifer stated as he entered the interrogation room.

“I don’t know,” Ella said, gently pushing a fist into his arm.  “Those were some pretty stellar moves, man.  Way to think on the fly.”

“Yes,” he said with a forced smile.  “Thank you.”

“Well, boys, this girl is outta here for the night.  See you in the morning!”  Dan waited until Ella was out of the room before patting the devil’s shoulder.

“Lucifer,” he sighed.  “Seriously.  Thank you.  You know as well as I do Chloe would’ve pushed into that situation without waiting for back-up.”

“Yes, she would have.  Truth be told, however,” Lucifer started, “it was a happy accident.  I didn’t know the electrical box was there until I clipped it with my shoulder.”  Dan shook his head and offered a gentle laugh.

“Well, I guess not all accidents are bad then, are they?”

“Guess not.”

“So, uh, did you talk to Chloe?  About…about Candy?”  Lucifer smiled dryly.

“Hadn’t a moment of time with all the bullets flying to and fro.  Sorry, not sorry,” he said with a soft shrug.

“Lucifer?”  Both men turned to see Chloe standing in the doorway, her arms wrapped around a large stack of papers and folders.  “I thought I told you to go home.”

“You did.  I feel I should stay, though.  To help with the paperwork.”  He pulled a hand from his pocket and motioned towards her collection.

“Really.”

“Lucifer’s getting pretty good at filling out the forms,” Dan said around a smile.  “Aren’t you?”

“Oh,” he said with a smile as he absently waved his hand.  “All thanks to a good teacher.”  Chloe narrowed her eyes and shifted her gaze between the men.

“What the hell is up with the two of you lately?” she mumbled.  “Stay if you want,” she said as she dropped the heap of folders and papers on the table.  “Five bodies and a murderer, six times the reports.”

“Well, that’s my cue to head out for the night.”  Dan smiled.  “Enjoy.”

“Thanks a lot,” she said with a roll of her eyes.  “Night, Dan.”

“Good night.”  He waited a moment until Chloe settled in the chair, her back to him.  “Lucifer.”  He caught the devil’s eyes and gave him a pointed look.  “Remember what we discussed.”  Lucifer sighed and nodded lazily.  “See you tomorrow.”

“What did you discuss?” she asked.  “Paperwork?”  He took a slow deep breath as he tipped his head to the side.

“Sure.”

“Whatever.”  She motioned over the stack of papers with her pen.  “Pick a vic,” she said as she chose a folder for herself.

“Right.”  Tomorrow, he thought.  Tomorrow he would cut his ties with the detective.  After all, it was hardly fair to bow out before officially closing the case.  Lucifer sat forward and grabbed the folder next in line.  Chloe pulled her green notepad from the middle of the pile and flipped to the last several pages.  She hummed lightly as she copied her notes from the lined paper to the appropriate places on the reports.

“I’m going to have to get a new notepad,” she mumbled.

“I’m sorry.  What’s that?”

“I need a new notepad,” she repeated as she flipped to the last page.  “There’s only one…page left.”  She pushed the reports aside and pulled the pad closer. “One page,” she breathed.  Tears started to swell in her eyes as her fingers brushed over the words written near the top of the piece of paper.  “I’m sorry.  I, uh…I need a minute.  Excuse me.”  Folding her fingers tightly around the notepad, she quickly pushed her chair away from the table and headed towards the doorway.

“Detective?”  Lucifer stood as she reached the door, the concern evident on his features.

“I’m fine,” she said, holding up a hand to keep him from following.  “I’ll be back in a minute.”  He nodded, silently agreeing to remain in the room.  She moved quickly, nearly sprinting as she rounded a corner and passed the elevator.  Shoving a shoulder into the door of the women’s restroom, she pushed into the room.  After checking the four stalls and finding each empty, she pressed her back against the bare wall next to the bank of sinks and slid to the floor.  She pulled her legs closer to her body as she rested the notepad on her bent knees.  Her fingers played gingerly over the worn green cover as her breathing became heavy, ragged.  As she flipped to the last page, tears began to fill her eyes, blurring the words scribbled across the page in near perfect cursive.

_I miss you.  – L_


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Muse took much longer than her contracted week of vacation. What a bitch.

**Day 50**

Chloe stared intently at the notepad lying on the desk in front of her.  Bright purple and intact, it bared no resemblance to her green notepad, worn with splotches of color rubbed away.  The pages were unused, the condition of the corners and edges pristine, not tattered and ripped, and filled with scribbles like her green notepad.  It begged for function, for purpose, for all the nasty little crime scene details she would decide to share with it, not for hand-written sentiments from her partner-not-partner like the one she had found in her green notepad.

_I miss you._

Did he?  Did Lucifer _really_ miss her?  His disappearance and out-of-the-blue marriage to Candy suggested otherwise.  The things he had said to her suggested otherwise.  The fact that he was working so well with Dan and had stopped arguing about being _her_ partner suggested otherwise.

Yet during the two cases they _had_ worked together over the previous weeks, Chloe had witnessed a shift in Lucifer that made her wonder about a possible truth to his words.  There had been a sadness and dejection when she had ignored the comments and innuendoes he had casually tossed in her direction.  There had been confusion, a silent considering, in his eyes whenever he had stared absently through a quiet moment.  He had appeared upset by the things he had discreetly contemplated.  Then there had been Lucifer’s question about regrets.  Selfishly, Chloe had wondered if she was one of his regrets.  Did he regret ending whatever it was they had started?  Maybe he regretted starting it.

Maybe the situation had no effect on him either way.

Chloe sat back in her chair and sighed.  Her question remained unanswered.  Did he _really_ miss her?  She was certain of one thing: she was not planning to ask him.

“Hey, Chloe,” Dan greeted.  “Do you know where Lucifer went?”

“I do not.”  She pushed the purple notepad aside and rested her arms on her desk.

“He was just here, wasn’t he?  Talking to you?”

“He was here,” she answered with a nod.  “But we weren’t talking.  We literally ran into each other coming around the corner.”

“Did you at least see which direction he went?”

“No.  I don’t really care what he does when he leaves for the day, Dan,” Chloe started.  “He has a life outside of this building.  His club, his wife…”  She waved an absent hand.  Dan laughed lightly and shook his head.

“Funny.”

“That Lucifer has a wife?  Yes, it is,” she agreed.  “I never pictured him to be the marrying type either.”  He watched as her attention turned to the computer, as her fingers began dancing over the keyboard.

“Okay,” he breathed.  “I think it’s about time you let that go, Chloe.”

“I’m sorry?” she asked, looking up at him.  “Let what go?”

“Come on, you know he isn’t married anymore.  You really shouldn’t joke about that.”

“Wait.”  Her fingers fell from the keys.  “What?”

“You don’t…”  Dan sighed as he nodded knowingly.  “He still hasn’t told you.”

“Lucifer and I haven’t really been on speaking terms when it comes to personal things.  We’ve been keeping everything…”  She nodded thoughtfully.  “Professional.  You know, on the two cases we’ve worked together.”

“Yeah.”  Dan sat in the empty chair next to her desk.  “I hate to say it, but it was kind of weird not to have Lucifer around for the handful of days he was working with you.”  Chloe smiled gently.

“Nice and peaceful, right?”

“Yes,” he laughed.  Her smile sobered.

“He’s really not married anymore?”  He shook his head in response.

“Candy has been gone for well over a month.  They filed for divorce; everything was signed and on record within a week.”  She sat back in her chair.

“You certainly seem to know quite a bit about it.”  She let a sly smile pull at her lips.  “When did the two of you become such good girlfriends?”  He laughed.

“Apparently when _you_ stopped being his…”  Dan dropped his eyes and ran a hand through his hair.  “I’m sorry, Chloe.  I didn’t mean…”

“It’s…it’s fine.”  She shook her head and looked away.  “What, uh…what happened with Lucifer and Candy?”

“I think you should talk to Lucifer about it.”  He stood and motioned a thumb over his shoulder.  “I have to get the monkey.”  Chloe nodded.

“Give Trix a kiss and a hug from me.”

“I will,” he said with a nod.  “Good night.”

“Night,” she called gently as he walked away.  She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear as she chewed the corner of her bottom lip.  Lucifer had been divorced for over a month.

And he hadn’t told her.

And that was entirely her fault.  After all, she refused to acknowledge any part of any conversation that didn’t revolve around a dead body or a murder weapon.  Lucifer had quickly settled, allowing her to set the boundaries, to make the silent rules.  Still, the man who overshared everything at the drop of a hat did not tell her about his divorce.

Or maybe he had.  Maybe he had _tried_.

“Regrets,” she whispered.  Had Lucifer been reaching out to her?  Had he been asking about her regrets in order to start a conversation about his?  Did he regret marrying Candy?  Did he regret divorcing her?

“Two for the price of one,” Lucifer said with a smile as he wandered by her desk, looking at the items in his hands.  Her eyes followed him as he moved across the way and stopped at Dan’s desk.  His shoulders fell as he looked around.  “Now where could he have set off to?” he asked himself.  Standing from her chair, Chloe moved quietly to join his side.

“Hey,” she started with a soft smile.

“Oh, Detective.”  He returned the smile.  “Do you know where Daniel is?”

“He headed home.  It’s his night with Trixie.”

“Right.  Of course.”  He looked to the items in his hands again.  “Something’s wrong with the machine,” he started.  “It dropped two bars instead of one.”

“Hmm.”  She nodded.  “It does that sometimes.”

“Ah.  I was going to share with Dan, but if he’s not here, well…”  He laughed gently.  “His loss.”  He lifted a hand, offering one of the Mounds candy bars to Chloe.

“Uh, no.  Thanks though.”

“Oh,” he drawled taking a careful step towards her.  “Maybe you…feel like a nut,” he offered with a cheeky smile.  “Would you rather have an Almond Joy?  I think I spotted one in the vending machine,” he started as he walked away.

“No.”  Chloe reached for him, gently touching his arm to keep him in place.  “No, that’s all right.  Actually…I…I didn’t think you were still here.”

“I was just on my way out.”  He held up the candy bars.  “Snack for the road.”

“Oh.  Do you…do you have a minute?  Can we…talk before you go?”

“Yes,” he answered slowly.  “Of course.”  She lifted her hands, wringing her fingers as she stepped a little closer and lowered the volume of her voice.

“Lucifer,” she started uneasily.  “We haven’t…really been…haven’t talked…”  She looked away as she closed her eyes.  “I just…I mean…”  With a heavy sigh, she dropped her hands and lifted her eyes to his.  “Dan told me about you and Candy.”

“Did he?”

“I’m so sorry, Lucifer,” she whispered as she placed a comforting hand on his arm.  “I’ve been there and if you need to talk to someone…I’m here.”

“And he would _love_ to take you up on that offer,” Dan interjected as he approached the desk.  “Wouldn’t you, Lucifer?”

“Dan?” Chloe started.  “I thought you left.”

“I forgot my report.”  He stepped around her and started to dig through the top drawer of his desk.  “Ah, here it is.”  He held the small stack of papers in the air for show.  “So,” he started, folding his arms over the papers as he held them against his chest.  “You were taking Chloe up on her offer, right, Lucifer?”

“I, uh…”  He tipped his head and pinned Dan with a stern glare.  “I thought we discussed this already.”

“We did,” he answered with a nod.  “And you promised.”

“What’s going on with the two of you?” Chloe asked, gesturing a finger between the two men.

“Nothing,” Dan answered.  “Lucifer is accepting your offer to talk about Candy.”  He lifted his eyebrows, pinning the devil with a look just as stern as the one he was receiving.  “Maybe over dinner,” he suggested with a shrug.

“Daniel, I—”

“Chloe’s free tonight,” he interrupted.  “So how about eight o’clock?”  He looked at Chloe.  “He’ll pick you up,” he said with a smile.  “Good night.”  Chloe spun slowly on her heel as she watched Dan walk away and then completed her circle as she turned to look at Lucifer.

“Seriously,” she started.  “What the hell?”  Lucifer smiled nervously and started to slip his hands into his pockets.

“Oh,” he said as he realized each hand still contained a candy bar.  “Well,” he breathed, “it seems I will be stopping by yours at eight o’clock and taking you to dinner.”

“Huh.  Okay,” she said as she narrowed her eyes.  “Eight o’clock.”

**Lucifer**

“I still do not see the issue, Detective,” Lucifer started as he rounded the front of the Corvette and handed the keys to the valet.

“The issue,” Chloe said as he joined her side, “is that I am not dressed for a place like this.”  She pulled her hands from the pockets of her brown leather jacket and held her arms out to her sides.  Lucifer stepped back, rubbing a hand along his chin as he looked over her attire.  A white shirt beneath the jacket, slightly worn blue jeans and brown leather knee-high boots.  He lifted his eyes and gently shook his head.

“Nonsense,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.  “You look wonderful.  As always,” he finished with a smile.  Chloe rolled her eyes.

“Who the hell wears jeans to a five-star restaurant?” she mumbled as she moved towards the entrance.  “Remind me, again, why we couldn’t have stayed at my apartment and had this talk?”

“Because I agree to take you to dinner,” Lucifer said as he followed.  “So…”  He skipped a few steps ahead of Chloe and wrapped his fingers around the long, sculpted metal handle of the door.  “Here we are.”

“Still seems unnecessary to me,” she said.  He took a turn to roll his eyes at her as he opened the door.

“It’s simply a nice restaurant with great food, Detective,” he explained as he motioned with a gentle sweep of his arm for her to enter.  “When was the last time you were at a nice restaurant?”  She turned as she passed him, locking their gazes and slowly walking backwards through the foyer as he again followed her.

“The night you stood me up,” she answered.

“Yes, well…”  He stopped moving and nodded his acknowledgement.  “Touché.”

“Ah, Mr. Morningstar.”  Chloe turned again as the voice of the restaurant owner greeted them.  The tall, slightly overweight man stretched a hand towards Lucifer.

“Phillip,” he greeted with a smile as they shook hands.  “I hope the last-minute reservation wasn’t an imposition.”

“Of course not,” Phillip replied.  “There is a table for you anytime you would like to stop by.  And speaking of,” he continued with a proud smile, “you usual table is ready.  If you’ll follow me.”

“Actually, Phillip, maybe a table in the middle would be better tonight.”

“Absolutely.  Right this way.”  They followed Phillip through the maze of tables.  “I hope this table is to your liking.”

“This will do wonderfully, Phillip.  Thank you.”  Lucifer stood behind a chair as Phillip pulled out the chair from the opposite side of the table for Chloe.

“Thank you,” she said as she took a seat.

“You are more than welcome.”  He stood at the table’s open side as Lucifer prepared to seat himself.  “Your server will be with you shortly.”

“Splendid.  Thank you, Phillip.”  With a smile and a slight nod, the owner walked away.  Chloe watched Lucifer as he adjusted his position in his chair, offered a nervous smile as he looked at her but did not meet her eyes, and rested his forearms on the table to either side of the leather-bound menu.  Her eyes followed the line of his arms to his fingers as they fidgeted along the lined pattern of the white tablecloth.  Her gaze drifted to his right, to the dark purple cloth napkin that encircled the silverware, then to his left, to the short, thick wine glass turned upside down.

“Your usual table?” she questioned gently.

“I usually sit in the back.”  She nodded slowly as her eyes shifted to the thin salt- and pepper-shakers in the middle of the table, flanking a small fishbowl style votive holder.  She lingered on the dancing flame inside the bowl for a moment before looking up at Lucifer.

“So this table is good why?”

“I just…I thought if we were in the midst of the other patrons then perhaps you wouldn’t…yell.  At me.”  Her eyes scanned the room.

“You think being around all of these people is going to keep me from yelling at you?” she challenged.  He shrugged and offered a sheepish smile when she looked at him again.

“I was hoping.”

“So I’m going to have reason to yell at you.”

“No, that’s not what I—”

“Lucifer.  Chloe.”  The devil’s eyes hardened and his senses stood on alert as the smooth voice of his mother’s earthly form reached his ears.  “What a pleasant surprise.”  Charlotte smiled widely as she placed a hand on Lucifer’s shoulder, a hand he quickly shrugged off.

“Mrs. Richards,” he greeted stiffly.

“Oh, no need for such formalities.”  She pinned him with a sharp glare.  “You _can_ call me Mo—”  She breathed a purposeful laugh.  “Charlotte,” she amended.

“I think not.”  As Lucifer dropped his hands to his lap and looked away from his mother, she turned her stunning smile to the detective.

“I’m glad to see you’re doing well, Chloe.  After that horrible ordeal with the poisoning,” she tsked.  Chloe looked at Lucifer, a slight tip of her head asking her silent question.

“How do you know about that?” she asked Charlotte.

“Oh, we walk the same circles, my dear,” she answered, flicking her gaze to Lucifer.  “Word gets around.”  A tall, well-built man appeared at Charlotte’s side.  She smiled and accepted the sculpted arm he offered.  “My date,” she gushed.  “Do enjoy your dinner.  Lucifer,” she said quietly, gently placing her hand on his shoulder again, “don’t be a stranger.”  With one last smile at the pair, she and her suitor walked away.

“Huh.  He’s not her husband,” Chloe commented.

“No.”  Lucifer watched the couple cross the room.  “He most certainly is not.”

“Don’t be a stranger?”  He looked at the detective and shrugged.  Chloe drummed her fingers on the table.  “So, where should we start?”

“Well, the appetizers here are marvelous,” he said as he picked up and opened the menu, “but if you want the steak I would suggest skipping—”

“Candy, Lucifer,” she interrupted.

“Right.  Of course.”  He closed the menu and placed it on the table.  “Remember, you promised not to yell.”

“No, I didn’t.”  She shook her head and leaned slightly over the table.  “Lucifer,” she started quietly, “this will probably be easier if you just, you know, start talking.”

“Yes.”  He cleared this throat and rested his forearms on the table, hands to either side of the menu.  “I told you that Candy and I knew each other previous to my trip to Vegas.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Well, after catching up, I learned that she was in trouble and—”

“Good evening, Mr. Morningstar.”  Lucifer sighed sharply and nervously tapped his fingers on the table.  “My name is Kristine and I’ll be your server.”  The young blonde woman smiled as she reached across the table to fill each of their glasses with iced water.  “Would you like to hear tonight’s specials?”  Lucifer looked to Chloe.  She shook her head.

“You’ve been here before,” she said.  “I trust you to order.”

“Excellent,” he said with a small smile.  “You won’t be disappointed, Detective.  I promise.”  Chloe waited patiently, as Lucifer ordered their meals.  She watched his actions, watched his expressions; listened to the tone of his voice.  None of the three displayed the clear and uncharacteristic nervousness he portrayed when speaking to her.  He was as much at ease as he seemed in every other situation.  “Thank you, Kristine.”  The server collected the menus and walked away, and Lucifer turned his attention to Chloe again.  The apprehension returned to his features, thick in his dark brown eyes.  She pushed the worry and the confusion aside and waved a hand, prompting him to continue.  He sighed heavily.  “A couple of deals her boyfriend could not uphold,” he resumed, “and a few very unhappy up-and-coming drug kinds later, Candy became…payment.  She was literally hours away from death.”  Chloe nodded slowly.  “So I called in a few favors and Candy was placed in Witness Protection.”

“When?”

“A little over a month ago.”

“Hmm.  Right around the time the two of you divorced?”

“Signed the papers minutes before she left the penthouse.”  Chloe turned her eyes to her glass as her fingers played with the drops of condensation sliding down the stem.  Lucifer shifted uneasily in his chair, scooting forward a bit as he tipped his head in an effort to see her eyes.  “Detective?” he called gently.  She remained quiet for a long moment, her gaze settling on a spot of the tablecloth immediately in front of her.

“I’m happy you could help your friend, Lucifer.”  She picked up her glass and took a large swallow of water.

“You do know I’m not lying to you.”

“But you’re not telling me the whole truth, are you?”  She frowned as she met his eyes.  “Let’s say I believe you,” she started, leaning forward to rest her arms on the table.  “Let’s say I believe you helped Candy into Witness Protection…”  She shook her head gently.  “I just…I don’t understand…”  She tapped her fingers on the table.  “Did you have to marry her to get her out of Vegas?”

“No,” he answered.

“Did you have to marry her to get her into Witness Protection?”  Lucifer narrowed his eyes slightly.

“No.”

“Then why…Lucifer.”  Chloe sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.  “Why did you marry her?”  He dropped his eyes and gently shook his head in answer.  “Damn it, Lucifer.  Answer me,” she demanded quietly.

“I needed to protect you, Detective.”

“How does marrying Candy protect me?” she asked incredulously.  “And from what?  I don’t even _know_ Candy.  There’s no way I’m involved in any of that mess.”

“You’re not,” he replied.  “I needed to protect you… _need_ to protect you from me,” he said quietly.  His eyes followed his fingers as they traced the sewn pattern of the tablecloth.  It wasn’t a lie, he decided.  Keeping her away from himself protected her from his mother, from his father, from any number of siblings who decided to follow in Amenadiel and Uriel’s footsteps.

“This again?”  Chloe slumped her shoulders in defeat.  “How many times do I have to tell you you’re not evil, Lucifer?”  He shook his head.

“There’s so much you don’t know,” he whispered.

“I’m here, Lucifer.”  She reached across the table, placing her hand over his, stilling his movements.  “ _Right here._   Tell me,” she said quietly.  He turned his head, connecting their palms and watched as her fingers curled perfectly into his hold.  His thumb moved slowly over her skin, tracing the space between her middle and ring fingers.  When he lifted his gaze to her eyes, her soft, pleading expression met the sadness of his own.

“I can’t.”

“It’s not that you can’t,” she countered.  “It’s that you won’t.”  She withdrew her hand and closed her fingers around the stem of her glass.  “Is it really so much easier to keep up this ridiculous story?  To create all of this drama than to…than to just say that you don’t want that kind of relationship with me?”

“What?  No, that’s—”

“After we kissed, you were…different.  You weren’t your flirty self.  You didn’t even try to kiss me a second time,” she said with a gentle laugh.  “I really thought I’d have to yell at you for pulling me into an empty office and…”  Her voice trailed off as the small smile on her face faded and her eyes dropped to the table.  “Of course, the whole poisoning thing happened and then you…were gone.  We had a good friendship, Lucifer.  A good partnership.”  She nodded slowly as she lifted her eyes to his.  “If you didn’t want things to go farther than that, all you had to do was say so.  I would have understood.”

“Detective,” Lucifer started as he reached across the table for her hand.

“Don’t,” she warned.  She wiped the tears from her eyes and looked around the restaurant.  “You’re right; I won’t yell at you in front of all these people,” she said with a nod.  “But I will do this.”  Chloe stood and was halfway to the front doors before Lucifer realized the frigid contents of her glass were soaking through his clothing.

“Detective!  Chloe!”  He stood as he called her name and sighed as the pile of ice cubes fell from his lap.  “Bloody hell,” he muttered.  “Go ahead,” he spat as he took in the curious eyes of the people at the tables around him.  “Get your chuckles in now.  It’s all very funny, isn’t it?”

“My poor son,” Charlotte sadly murmured as she appeared at Lucifer’s side.  She lifted her hand to place a comforting palm on his cheek but he quickly turned his head to pull away.

“Please,” he scoffed.  “Save your pity for someone else.”

“It’s not pity,” she defended as she folded her arms across her chest.  “You know I don’t like to see any of my children suffer.”

“I wish I could believe that, Mother.  But, oh yes!  That’s right!” he started with a feigned excitement.  “ _You_ were the one that sentenced me to an eternity in Hell!” he bit.  Charlotte released a nervous laugh as she looked around the restaurant at the eyes once again returning to her son with his outburst.  She took a step closer to Lucifer, showing a tight smile.

“Your father was going to kill you,” she reminded him quietly.  “It was the only way to ensure your safety.”  He shook his head and pulled the cloth napkin from the table, allowing the silverware to tumble gently out of the roll with a clatter.  As he started to dab at the wet spots of his shirt, she grabbed his hand, preventing him from continuing.  “Lucifer,” she started, “a mother knows what’s best for her children; and as your mother, I am telling you to let go of that human.”  She made a disgusted face.  “Now that you know the truth about Chloe, the truth about her presence in your life…”  Charlotte sighed and again placed her palm along his cheek.  “She’ll only bring you pain.”

**Lucifer**

Lucifer pressed his back against the wall of the elevator and let his head tip in the same direction.  He closed his eyes as the thud of contact filled the space around him, soft, quiet, almost floating through the air; very much the opposite of the chaos churning within him.  The detective believed he had no interest in her, and it hurt.  Yet that’s what he wanted, wasn’t it, to thwart any feelings she had for him?

No.

That’s not what he wanted.

It’s what he _needed_.

What _she_ needed.

The elevator doors opened with a gentle swoosh, and he pushed himself out of his lean and into the penthouse.  He moved towards the bar as he pulled his suitcoat from his shoulder, preparing to settle it over one of the barstools.  Frowning, he stopped mid-motion and eyed the brown leather jacket that occupied the space he had planned on using.  Taking a deep breath, he turned and faced the middle of the room.

“Detective.”  Lucifer absently draped his jacket over Chloe’s and slowly crossed the reflective floor.  “I thought…I thought you’d headed home.”

“Well, you thought wrong.”

“So I see.”  He watched Chloe, took note of the crease on her brow, as she paced in front of the sofa.  She opened her mouth several times as though she wanted to speak, but stopped before any words come forth, simply finishing with a shake of her head.  He waited, outwardly patient, for her to say something.

“I’m angry, Lucifer,” she finally said as she slowly moved towards the piano.

“I see that, as well.  Come to have a go-around then?” he asked.  “Perhaps you would like another glass of water to throw at me.”

“I want to know what that is.”  With a frown, he followed her direction as she pointed an object on the end of the piano.

“That’s your green notepad,” he answered.  He held up his hands.  “I swear I did not have it this time.  If you found it here, then _you_ left it here at some point.”  He narrowed his eyes and tipped his head to the side as he lowered his hands.  “So when, exactly, have you been in the penthouse?”

“I didn’t find…I wasn’t here.”  She closed her eyes and clenched her jaw.  “Just open it,” she instructed.  “Last page.”  He carefully rounded the piano and picked up the notepad.  He flipped through the worn pages, past the hand-written records and observations, until the last page was facing him.

“Oh,” he said quietly as he read the words he had written on the paper.  _I miss you. – L._ “I forgot that was there.”  He closed the pad and gently placed it on the piano.

“You _forgot_?”

“Yes.  I wouldn’t have left it in there had I remembered.”  Turning, he moved towards the bar to pour a drink.

“What does that mean, Lucifer?”

“It means that had I remembered, I would have ripped out the last page before giving it back to you.”  He looked over his shoulder at her.  “The stress of the job must _really_ be getting to you.”

“What you wrote, Lucifer.  I want to know what _that_ means.”  He turned back to the counter, grabbed a bottle and filled two tumblers.

“It means exactly what it reads, Detective.”

“Do you…did you mean it?”

“Of course I did.”

“When did you write it?”  He placed the bottle on the countertop and sighed.

“The day you threw the notepad at me; the day we found Jenna Peters.  Or,” he started as he picked up both tumblers, “more accurately, that night.”  He turned to face her.  “Any more questions?”

“I don’t get it.  How can you say that?” she asked angrily as she motioned towards the notepad.  “How _dare_ you say you missed me when you keep pushing me away?”  He stopped at the side of the piano, placing the second tumbler in the middle of the lid.

“Just because I pushed doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you, didn’t miss us.”  She laughed as she slowly rounded the instrument.

“Us,” she scoffed as she approached him.  “What was it you called ‘us’?” she asked as she tapped a finger against her lips.  “Oh, that’s right.  A tragic story of what never was.”  He started to speak but Chloe continued over him.  “And what was the other thing?” she persisted, taking the glass from his hand.  “Something about broken eggs?”  With a hard fling of her hand, the glass pitched across the room and broke as it hit the floor in front of the bar. 

“Detective,” he started.

“Do _not_ detective me.  Lucifer, I was _really_ worried while you were gone,” she started with a bitter quiet as she stepped towards him.  “Sick to my stomach thinking something had happened to you.”

“Yet nothing did,” he replied, taking a step backwards.  “All that worry for nothing.”  He offered a nervous smile.

“For nothing,” she nodded as she stepped towards him again.  “Right, because you _weren’t_ hurt.”

“I was not.”  She continued to move forward slowly; he continued to retreat at a matched pace.

“Hmm, you were doing what you do best,” she continued.  “Being selfish.”

“Detective, I—”

“Not giving two shits about how your actions affected everyone around you.”

“Detective.”  He stopped talking as his back hit the wall to the side of the steps to his bedroom.

“We had a moment.  A good, _honest_ moment, Lucifer.”  He cringed inwardly at her description.  “Just you and me on the beach.  Then you left.  Without any kind of explanation.  And then,” she continued, “you came back.  Married.  _Married,_ Lucifer.  You threw it in my face.  You said some pretty awful things.  Things you can’t take back,” she whispered.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said just as quietly.

“Really?  Well, you sure fooled me.”  She tipped her head to the side.  “If you didn’t mean those things then why—”

“I _didn’t_ mean them,” he defended.  “I just meant to _say_ them.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, Lucifer.”

“Yes, it does.”  He sidestepped her and moved toward the sofa.  “It makes perfect sense.”

“Does it now?” she questioned as she followed him.  “You didn’t want to hurt me but you knowingly did so.”

“Yes.”

“ _That_ ,” she bit, “makes no sense!”

“Yes, it does!”  He turned quickly to look at her.  “How was I supposed to push you away?”

“Maybe you didn’t have to push me away,” she countered.

“Yes, I did.”  He nodded emphatically.

“Why?”

“I had my reasons.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“I has to be.”

“It’s not.”  He turned and continued to walk away.  “Why, Lucifer?” she pressed as she moved behind him.

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Detective,” he warned.

“Why?” she yelled.

“Because I was scared!” he yelled as he turned back to her.  He took several heavy breaths before he sighed and dropped his shoulders in defeat.  “Happy now?” he bit.  “The devil was scared.”

“Lucifer,” Chloe whispered.

“How was I to know it was real?” he asked.  “How was I to know that your choices were your own?”

“Of course my choices were my own,” she chided.

“How can you be certain?”

“Because I thought about it, Lucifer.  I thought about choosing between nodding my head and walking away at your big ‘I’m not good enough’ speech,” she started, taking a step towards him, “and kissing you.”  She stepped closer again.  “I choose to kiss you.”  She sighed as he gently shook his head and walked away.  “Choices,” she said.  “You have two.  One, we call this quits.  All of it,” she continued with a sweep of her arms.  “No more cases, no more partnership, no more working as a consultant for _any_ detective.  No more seeing each other at all.  I pretend you don’t exist; you pretend I don’t exist.”  He turned to her, a frown on his face.  “Or two, we keep our partnership and try to move past all of this.”

“Calling a mulligan, eh?”

“Of sorts, yeah.”  Lucifer kept his position as Chloe moved towards him.  “I _do_ like working with you, Lucifer.  I always have.”

“Liar,” he scolded gently.  “You _loathed_ having me at your side at first.”

“You grew on me,” she admitted with a shrug of her shoulder.  “Do you want to be my partner or not?”

“Yes,” he breathed.  “Of course I do.”

“And we can be friends?  Because I can’t do this,” she said, hands gesturing between their bodies, “if things are going to be weird.”

“Right.  No weird.”

“So we’re good then?”

“Yes, we’re good.”  He smiled as he approached her.  “I _want_ to be your partner,” he reiterated.  “And we _can_ be friends.  I promise not to flirt with you any more than normal.”

“Lucifer,” she sighed with a gentle laugh.  He chuckled lightly and then spread his arms to his sides.

“Come on,” Lucifer started.  “Bring it in.”  Chloe’s eyebrows raised in question.  “I’ve been spending too much time around Miss Lopez,” he offered as explanation.  She laughed and stepped into his embrace.  He wrapped his arms tightly around her shoulders as she wrapped hers around his waist.  _Partner, friends,_ he thought.  _Nothing more._


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life. Just life. I promise I'll get it figured out one of these days. Thank you to those that are stickin' with me!

**Day 73**

“Hmm.”  Lucifer swallowed his mouthful of water and reached forward to place the glass on the table.  “You should have seen it,” he started as a wide smile crept across his face.  “Detective Decker was absolutely brilliant.  The baddie had his gun trained on me.  Square in the ol’ ticker,” he said, flattening a palm over his heart.  “The detective had her firearm trained on him.  Then…”  He chuckled gently.  “ _Then_ she started crying.  _Crying_ ,” he repeated.  “Muttering about the rather worthless day she was having.  A cold shower because the water heater broke, no coffee because her roommate moved out and took the coffee machine.  Oh!  My favorite!  The dog that peed on the carpet right in the middle of the living room.”  Lucifer released a content sigh as he joined his fingers over crossed legs.  “She told him if he shot me, it would just be the rotten cherry on top.  Of course, he was confused by the detective’s display and distracted just long enough for me to steal his gun.  Bad guy caught, case solved.  All in all, a very satisfying couple of days,” he said with a smile.

“I’m concerned, Lucifer,” Linda started as she sat back in her chair.

“You shouldn’t be.  Bad guy caught,” he reiterated.  “The city is safe.  Well,” he started, rolling his wrist, “from that particular pain in the rear, at least.  And no doubt we’ll be after another one today.”  She nodded and gently tapped the top end of her pen on the notebook resting in her lap.

“I’m concerned about _you_ , Lucifer.”

“Me?”  She nodded again.  “Why?”

“Do you remember what we talked about the last time you were here?”  He nodded slowly.

“I do.”  He sighed heavily when she lifted an eyebrow, silently prompting him to continue.  “You said I was purposely putting myself in a position to be around the detective.”

“Yes.  And you said…”

“I said I was doing no such thing.”

“Mm-hmm.  And which one of us was right?”

“You,” he answered begrudgingly.  “Fine.  Yes, the whole staying away from Detective Decker thing didn’t work.  My bad.  Honestly,” he started, scooting closer to the front of the cushion, “part Daniel’s bad, as well.”

“And why is that?”

“He made me explain the Candy situation to the detective.”

“He didn’t _make_ you.”

“He made me _promise_ to tell her,” he countered.

“Lucifer, he didn’t _make_ you promise, either.  You could very easily have said ‘no’.”

“Let’s agree to disagree, Doctor.  The point is with the Candy explanation, the detective’s anger towards me subsided.  Minimally,” he said with an absent gesture of his hand, “but subsided nonetheless.  That would not have happened had he not forced me to speak to her.”  Linda closed her eyes and ran her fingers over her forehead.  “See?  Daniel’s fault.”

“You really play this all to your own advantage, don’t you?”

“I’m sorry?  I don’t understand.”

“You can run away from your father, from _God_ , so He doesn’t manipulate you, yet a person, a _human_ , has the ability to force you into a promise, to force you into a conversation that you didn’t want to have.”  Lucifer frowned.  “Dan didn’t force you into anything,” she stated.  “You simply used his words to justify rounding the rules you set for yourself, rules you didn’t want to set in the first place.”  He opened his mouth to answer but Linda stopped him as she held her hand in the air.  “I’m not finished.  You said you needed to hear Chloe say that things between the two of you, professionally and personally, were over.  She said as much.  Yet you haven’t made the break you set out to make,” she said pointedly.  “You haven’t distanced yourself from Chloe at all.  You are, in fact, right back to where you started.”

“Sort of.  The detective and I are simply colleagues now.  No romantic notions to get in the way.”

“Feelings don’t just disappear, Lucifer.”

“Right,” he said slowly, “but Detective Decker and I discussed this.  We agreed to partners and friends, and that nothing more would come from it.”

“So you’re just going to ignore how you feel for Chloe?  Ignore what she feels for you?”

“Yes,” he answered.  “My feelings for the detective are what put her in danger and her feelings…well,” he started through a breath as he sat back.  “We all know the story behind her feelings, don’t we?”

“Do we?  Do we _really_ know?  Has your father come down from Heaven and said, ‘Lucifer, you were right; I was manipulating your detective friend’?”

“Of course He hasn’t.”

“Then how can you be so certain that what she’s feeling for you isn’t real?  And let’s, just for shits and giggles, say that you’re right about her feelings being manufactured…that doesn’t make Chloe’s feelings any less real to _her_.”  Lucifer frowned.

“Amenadiel said something of the sort, too,” he said absently.

“Even when we know our feelings are misplaced or not returned, or simply wrong place, wrong time, they are difficult to ignore.  Take your feelings, for example,” she started, tipping her head to the side.  “You still care about Chloe.”

“Of course.”

“Do you still love her?”  He closed his eyes and sighed, but did not answer.  “Lucifer?” she prodded gently.

“Yes,” he responded.  “I do.”

“Do you think that’s just going to go away?  Blink and it’s over?”

“No,” he whispered.

“I realize this is not a typical situation, and there are _many_ questions and factors at play here, but…”  She sat forward and softened her voice.  “You succeeded in pushing Chloe away.  She told you she didn’t want you around.  And that worked.  For a little while.  Even though she was angry with you, she invited you to work a couple of cases with her.  And you accepted.  Now…now you’re—”

“Unofficial official partners,” he said with a gentle smile.

“Yes.  Spending a lot of time with each other.  Again.”  His brow furrowed as he listened.  “Do you see where this is headed?  What’s to keep you from travelling down a familiar path?”

**Lucifer**

The soft tones of the piano floated through the empty club, gently bouncing off the walls.  Lucifer needed some solace, some sense of peace to complete his day.  Yet haunting, nameless melodies were all his fingers seemed capable of playing.  Flats and minors, diminished chords, drawn-out notes, anything and everything proficient at pulling the drearier thoughts and emotions from his body.  Lucifer lit another cigarette and took a deep drag before resting it on the notched edge of the nearly-full glass ashtray sitting on top of the piano.  His early morning session with Linda had bothered him most of the day.  He understood the doctor’s concern, understood that neither he nor the detective had displayed much determination to desert the other, yet he felt this situation was under control.

Taking a second long drag from the cigarette, Lucifer smiled gently.  Tensions between himself and Chloe had mostly dissipated over the previous weeks.  They were in sync, rummaging through investigations, quickly solving cases.  They encountered a few bumps along the road, none of which more than trivial inconveniences.  The biggest obstacle came over the period of three particularly long days in court, in which Lucifer’s mother attempted to use Charlotte Richards’ reputation as a cut-throat lawyer, and the filth of the world, to draw a line between detective and consultant.  Her endeavor had been fruitless as standing by each other’s side only served to strengthen Lucifer and Chloe’s bond.

They had gained ground in their friendship, as well.  Chloe had agreed to let Lucifer treat her to a drink and a meal after the ordeal with his mother.  Two partners, two _friends_ , simply enjoying each other’s company after a job very well done.  Chloe seemed more relaxed, more comfortable around him.  Her smile had returned and her eyes rolled at him with their typical frequency.  Lucifer had brushed aside Linda’s warnings of regression with the explanation that he and the detective were building some semblance of normalcy, and that was a good thing.

Sought by both parties.

After all, Chloe _was_ the one that proposed the choices.  Partners and friends, or nothing.

How could he _possibly_ have chosen ‘nothing’?

“We’re closed,” Lucifer announced loudly over his shoulder at the sound of footsteps on the staircase.  “Lux doesn’t open for another three hours.  Come back then.”  He pulled the cigarette from the ashtray, the motion of his hand swirling the light grey smoke in the air.

“That’s too bad.  I was really looking forward to a drink.”  Lucifer paused with the cigarette halfway to his mouth and turned to regard his visitor.

“Detective,” he greeted with a surprised smile.  Chloe smiled gently in return as she reached the floor, her hand resting on the end of the railing.  “Well, well.”  He ground the lit end of the cigarette into the tray and stood as he faced her again.  “Far be it for me to refuse service to a beautiful woman.”  As he neared her position at the bottom of the staircase, he placed his hand on the small of her back, gestured towards the bar with the other hand.  “What suits your fancy?”  She shrugged gently as she took a seat on a barstool.

“Surprise me.”  He offered a playful, wicked smile and slipped behind the counter, keeping his back to her as he perused the wide selection of booze.  “Lucifer,” Chloe started gently, “I know it’s only been a few weeks and that we’re still working out some of the kinks—”

“I like kinks,” he interrupted jokingly.

“I know you do,” she laughed gently.  “It’s been…really nice.  You know,” she explained, rolling her wrist in gesture, “working as partners again.”  Lucifer turned towards her, smiling widely as he placed a bottle of alcohol and two empty shot glasses on the bar.

“Does this mean you’ll keep me?” he asked, placing a hand over his chest in playful excitement.  “Part two of ‘The Detective and the Devil’?”  He chuckled light as he filled both glasses.  She laughed and nodded slowly as she folded her arms over the countertop.

“I think we can work out some kind of deal.”

“Making a deal with the devil can be dangerous, Detective.”  Crossing his harms, Lucifer bent at the waist and rested his arms on the bar top, mimicking the position Chloe held.  He leaned a little closer to her, enjoying the slight blush that graced her cheeks.  “One never knows what he’ll ask in return,” he said quietly, dropping his eyes to her lips.  She released a soft breath as he lifted his eyes to hers again.  Holding his gaze, she reached for one of the glasses.

“I’ll take my chances.”

“I will _certainly_ drink to that.”  He lifted his glass, clinked the side of the one Chloe was holding, and both tossed back their toast.  Placing his glass on the top of the bar, he carefully studied her.  With a gentle narrowing of his eyes, he tipped his head to the side.  “Come, Detective,” he started as he rounded the counter and took her hand.

“Where are we going?” she asked as he pulled her off the stool and led her towards the back rooms of the club.

“To the wine cellar.”  Stopping his movement, he turned to look at her.  “We are going to celebrate.”

“Celebrate what?”

“Our reunion, of course,” he answered with a smile.  “Pick a bottle, any bottle, and we’ll properly toast our partnership.”  He gently tugged on her arm and continued towards the back.  “Maybe you’d like to let your hair down a little tonight and dance with me, eh?  We had fun the last time we danced.”

“Lucifer.”  Chloe set her stance and stopped his forward motion.  She studied his face as he turned again to look at her, eyebrow raised as he patiently waited for her to proceed.  _The last time we danced,_ she thought.  There was no mistaking that he was referring to the night before Lux’s scheduled demolition.  It was, after all, the _only_ time they had danced.  And yes, she would agree they’d had fun; Lucifer had a very contagious excitement and his enthusiasm that evening had been no exception.  Her hesitation wasn’t triggered by that night, however; it was triggered by everything that followed that night.

“Detective?” Lucifer prodded gently at her silence.  Chloe tipped her head to the side.  This night was different from that string of events, though.

Wasn’t it?

He was not knee-deep in a last ditch effort to save Lux and she wasn’t calling in favors to save his home.  He wasn’t inviting her to dinner to express his gratitude.  He wasn’t ghosting on said dinner.  They weren’t openly sharing their appreciation and dependence upon each other in court, or sharing a relaxed meal of burgers and fries in the quiet, inviting warmth of his penthouse.

They weren’t having moments.

He wasn’t telling her that she deserved better than what he could offer.

And she wasn’t kissing him.

“Detective?” he started again.

No, nothing about their current situation was the same.  They had talked about that, agreed that they would remain partners and friends; agreed that they would not cross that line again.   _Celebrating our reunion_ , she reminded herself.  _That’s all._   She could do that.

“Sorry,” Chloe said quietly.  “I was just…”  Lucifer took a step closer to her, keeping his hold of her hand intact but gentle.  “I, uh…don’t want…too much noise.  Tonight,” she said, gesturing back towards the empty club’s dance floor.

“Then we’ll go upstairs.  Just you and me.  No funny business,” he quickly added.  “I promise.”  She nodded slowly.  “We’ve been through so much,” he whined, finishing the dramatics with a slight buckle of his knees.  “I think we’ve earned the right to mark this special occasion.”  He was right.  Nothing had been easy, for either of them, since her poisoning.  Finally, _finally_ , the pieces seemed to be falling into place; things seemed to be heading back to normal.

As normal as anything with Lucifer could be.

“Okay,” she agreed.  “Lead the way.”

**Lucifer**

“Well, you know the part,” Chloe started as she shifted to draw her legs onto the cushion and beneath her body.  “I eat the cake and then…”

“And then proceed to empty the contents of your stomach onto that young chap’s head?”  Lucifer laughed.  “Yes, I do know the part.”

“Well, that actor…Tyler…no.”  She scrunched her face and looked away.  “Billie?”  She cocked her head and lifted her eyes upwards.  “Lucas…nope.  I can’t remember,” she said with a shake of her head.  “Anyway, that actor was let go after the first time we shat that scene.”  Lucifer tipped his head in question.  “After I fake threw up the cake, _he_ threw up.  Like, for real.’

“What?” he chuckled.

“Yeah.  Then proceeded to tell the director that he was okay and we could try the scene again, only to throw up before the director could yell ‘action’.”  She listed towards him as she laughed.  “That’s not even the best part,” she continued, poking a finger into his shoulder.  He narrowed his eyes.

“Don’t tell me,” he said, his laughter growing.  “Just how many young lads were cast for the role?”

“Seven,” she answered with a giggle.  “Seven before we found one that could make it through the scene without getting sick.  Ugh, I had to eat _a lot_ of cake.”  Her laughter fell into a gentle hum as she lifted her wine glass to her lips.  Lucifer released a content sigh as he watched the detective.  The glimmer in her eyes reminded him of the long ago night when they had shared a dinner of burgers and fries.  He remembered the soft feeling of her skin as he held her hand.  He remembered the peacefulness of the evening, remembered feeling happy and at ease.  He remembered everything as though he was living in that very moment.  Perhaps he was, in a way, simply spending a comfortable, unhurried evening with Chloe.

“I can’t believe you haven’t shared these stories with me before now,” he commented.  “Rather hilarious, in my opinion.  Especially knowing a no-nonsense cop was part of said hilarity.”  He lifted an eyebrow as he took a drink of his wine.

“That was a long time ago,” she replied.  “It was fun but it wasn’t…it wasn’t me.  I was so young and stupid back then.”  Lucifer draped his arm along the back of the sofa.

“I am sure that was not the case,” he stated as his fingers played with the ends of her hair.  “Everyone starts somewhere, Detective.”

“I suppose they do.”  Chloe offered a gentle smile and just as Lucifer had recalled the good memories of their ‘moment’, he quickly remembered how everything had soured.  A part of him didn’t mind that they had been interrupted, prevented from completing their kiss.  The disruption had given both of them an opportunity to end on the same page.  He had wanted to kiss her, and then believed it a mistake.  She had initially thought it a mistake, and then had kissed him.  Yet in a moment safely wrapped in each other’s arms, they had decided together that they were real.

_Together_.  That’s what had mattered.

Until the revelation of his father’s meddling had slapped him square in the face.

The decision had not been theirs; would _never_ be theirs.

Lucifer closed his eyes, holding back the disgusting guilt he was sure he would have felt had they followed the seemingly natural progression of the relationship.  He could not bring himself to think about the consequences or the pain he would have caused her.  With a slow opening of his eyes, Lucifer lifted his gaze to Chloe eyes and then immediately dropped it to the lip she was lightly biting.  How different his thoughts would be, how different his _actions_ would be if he didn’t need to worry about manipulations, if he knew her will was her own.

“What about you?” Chloe asked quietly.  “Where did you start?  You know, if you’re really not Larry, the son of a plumber from Connecticut.”  Lucifer smiled gently and focused on the length of hair still between his fingers.

“Story for another time,” he offered with a wink.  He brushed the hair from her shoulder and then reached for her near-empty glass.  “How about a refill?”

**Lucifer**

“You didn’t have to drive me home, Lucifer,” Chloe stated as they neared the front door of her apartment.

“What kind of partner would I be if I got you all liquored up and then didn’t see you safely home?” he laughed lightly.  “Can’t very well let you Uber it, can I?”

“Yeah, you can,” she nodded.  “But I appreciate it.  Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”  He chuckled as she stumbled through a step and hooked her arm in his to steady herself.  “Good?” he asked.

“Yep,” she said with a nod.  “You know what I don’t get?  I don’t get how you can drink as much as you do and not be…I don’t know, at the very least buzzed.”

“Oh, I have quite the buzz going, thank you very much.”

Interestingly enough.

Maybe ‘buzzed’ wasn’t quite the right word.  He was no stranger to the numbing effects of alcohol but his supernatural metabolism allowed him to burn through those effects rather quickly.  Yet being around the detective, he had learned throughout the evening, slowed his processing.  For the first time, and after far less than he would normally drink, Lucifer believed himself inebriated.  He felt heavy, his body rather light.  The world around him seemed insignificant and distant, the sights directly in front of him so alive and…close.

Close.

Like the detective.

“Then we need to drink together more often,” Chloe said.  “So I can learn your…your tells.”  She turned as they stopped walking and leaned her back against the door.  “I don’t think it’s very fair that you have awful pictures of me and my drunk face, and I have nothing of you and yours.”

“Well, good luck getting me _that_ loaded,” he said with a roll of his eyes.

“Someday, Lucifer.  Someday.”  He returned her smile as he looked down at her.  _So full of mirth_ , he thought.  “Thanks for the ride home.”

“My pleasure.  Good night, Detective.”

“Good night, Lucifer.”  He bent slightly and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek, lingering a little longer than he should have.  As he pulled back, Chloe’s fingers appeared tightly curled around the lapels of his jacket, holding him in place.  She stepped forward and lifted her chin, pressing a soft, slow kiss to his lips.  He kept his eyes closed and drew a deep, measured breath as she put a small amount of space between them.  His head felt heavy again, yet it wasn’t simply a heightened physical reaction to what he had been drinking; it was his reaction to the detective.  Oh, how he had missed this; missed this soft touch of her lips, the feeling of her body wrapped in his arms.  How desperate he was to relive the moment they had shared on the beach, the moment they had kissed.  The moment he felt…

Complete.

How was it possible to miss something he never truly had?

“Detective,” he whispered.  Slowly, he opened his eyes, met her dark blue orbs as his hands found her hips.  He backed her against the door as he pursued her mouth.  The delicate, explorative kiss maintained its relaxed pace but quickly deepened.  He could never have enough of her, he decided as his fingers curled tightly in her hair.  If he had an eternity to spend with her, to explore his…feelings, it would never be enough.  He separated their mouths and rested his forehead against her.  “Not like this,” he started quietly.  “Not when you’re…not very sober,” he said with a gentle smile.

“Your fault,” she murmured.

“Guilty,” he said as he pulled away.  His eyes lingered on her mouth and his brow crinkled with a slight frown.  How did he tell her?  How did he convey everything he felt if he didn’t know himself what it all meant?  How did he prove that he had never lost interest in a ‘them’, even though he seemingly had lost his way?  How did he walk away from what he truly desired?  “Detective.”  His voice was barely above a whisper as he leaned in, pressing his body into hers.  He placed a drawn-out kiss against her lips, pulling back before she could return it.  “Sober,” he repeated.

“Yeah,” she agreed with a nod.  “Okay.”  Chloe closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the door as the heat from Lucifer’s body vanished.  She remained there, motionless in that position, until the hum of his Corvette’s engine flared and then faded into the distance.  She slid to the ground as tears slid down her cheeks.  “Stupid,” she chided herself with a whisper.  “We’re not supposed to do that.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, dear people! So, I did something stupid. I started a new job. And said new job is leaving me no time to write! Why? Whyyyyyyyyy? Updates will be slow in coming, but they will come! (And I promise to try to answer reviews, too!) Thank you all for sticking around with me!

**Day 74**

“It’s a little early to be planning girls’ night, don’t you think?” Linda said with a gentle laugh.  She moved her phone from her right ear to her left and sandwiched it between her ear and shoulder.  “Yes, I know,” she said as she rummaged through the files on her desk.  “Yes, Chloe’s schedule sucks for that.  Ella’s, too,” she said with a nod.  “I didn’t mean early in the week, Maze; I meant early in the day.”  She laughed lightly again.  “My coffee hasn’t even cooled down enough to drink yet.”  Linda opened the top drawer of her desk and pulled out a pen.  “Well, I am pretty booked for the week.  Can we do Saturday night?”  She lifted her eyes to the closed door of her office as a soft knock came from the other side.  “Okay, Saturday it is.”  Linda glanced at the small clock on her desk.  “I have to go; my first patient is early.  Yes, we are still on for dinner tonight.  See you then.”  As she pulled the phone from her ear and pressed a finger over the glass screen to end the call, the knock repeated with a bit more force.  “Just a moment,” she called gently.  Humming lightly, she placed the files in the bottom drawer of her desk and stood from her chair.  The knocking continued, this time incessant.  “Please do not let this be a sign of a long day,” she pleaded quietly as she crossed the floor.  Flipping the deadbolt out of its locked position, she opened the door.

“I kissed the detective,” Lucifer stated as he pushed past her into the office.

“Yep, long day,” she mumbled as she closed the door.  “You work rather quickly, don’t you?  It’s been less than twenty-four hours, Lucifer.”

“Right.  Actually, _I_ didn’t start it.  _She_ kissed _me._ ”  Linda sighed and motioned towards the sofa.

“Sit down,” she started.  “Talk to me.”

“Detective Decker and I were…celebrating,” he began as he sat in the middle of the sofa.  “Celebrating our renewed partnership.  Shared a few glasses of wine.  And then some,” he admitted under his breath.  “I took her home, we said good-night and she kissed me.”

“Hmm.  And you kissed her back?” she asked, sitting to Lucifer’s right.

“I did.”  He smiled sadly as his eyes dropped to the floor.  “For a moment it was…it was like we were on the beach again.  The feeling…the…”

“The butterflies?” Linda suggested.

“Yes.”

“All those things you don’t want to feel anymore.”

“I _do_ want to feel them.  I just want to know that I’m feeling them because they’re real, not because they’re a product of my father’s calculated bullshit.”

“So you kissed.  Did it go any farther?”

“No.  She’d had, well, we both had quite a bit to drink and…”  He shrugged gently.  “I may be all for following one’s desires, but I do not condone taking advantage.  I left before things could go further.”

“Think about what you just said.”  He frowned and tipped his head.

“I don’t understand.”

“You didn’t stop things with Chloe because of your father’s so-called manipulations,” she started.  “You stopped because…”  She lifted her eyebrows as she expected him to finish the thought.

“Because I’m not an asshole?”

“Well, yes, in a way.  Yes.  But no, not exactly what I meant.  You stopped because you still care for Chloe, you still want something between the two of you, but you don’t want to do anything to jeopardize that possibility.  Any more than you have already,” she amended.

“I miss our partnership, our friendship,” he said with a nod.

“You need to go slowly, Lucifer,” she warned gently.

“Slowly?”  He breathed an incredulous laugh.  “First of all, the detective and I are not going anywhere.  It was just a kiss, a little…drunken misadventure.  Secondly, when we _were_ headed somewhere, you told me going slowly was simply my way of stalling.”

“Because it was.”

“And just yesterday, you told me not to go anywhere at all!”  He threw his hands in the air as he stood and walked towards the window.  “I mean, make up your mind, Doctor.”

“I’m not the one that needs to make the decisions, Lucifer.  I’m here to walk you through your questions and your feelings so _you_ can make the decisions.  The _right_ decisions.”

“The right decisions,” he scoffed quietly.

“Look, yesterday, I did not say not to go anywhere.  I just want you to understand what you’re facing.  You both have feelings for one another, feelings neither of you are resolving.  You’re both throwing a lot of mixed signals.”  Linda stood and moved to Lucifer’s side.  “Everything changed after you went to Vegas, Lucifer.  Whether you stick to your partnership, rebuild your friendship or pursue a more intimate path, you have a long way to go to regain Chloe’s trust.  Maybe,” she started, gently placing a hand on his arm, “you and Chloe need to sit down and talk about what you both want.  _Really_ talk about it.  And then if you decide to become involved romantically…”

“Go slowly,” he finished.

“Yes.”

“Well,” he said, slipping his hands into his pants pockets, “as I said before, it was simply a drunken mishap.  I do know I must earn her trust again, and I _will_ do anything it takes to do so, but as far as any ‘intimate paths’…”  He shook his head.  “That’s an avenue closed to me, I’m afraid.”

**Lucifer**

Chloe moved slowly through the small kitchen, eyes taking in the chaotic mess throughout the room.  Every cabinet door was open.  Boxes and cans of food, pots and pans, dishes and glasses littered the floor and the countertops, tossed from their respective shelves.  A torn, brown paper bag lay in the middle of the mess, a spray of fresh vegetables and fruits around it.  Stepping carefully around the items, Chloe made her way to a two-person table on the far end of the kitchen.  Both chairs lay on their sides, and a clutter of papers covered the table and the floor.

“Looks like someone was a tad frustrated whilst putting away the groceries.”  Chloe nodded slowly as she turned around to greet her partner.

“Yeah,” she agreed quietly.  Lucifer moved to her side and sifted through a few of the papers on the table.  She turned again and peered down the short length of hallway leading to the living room.  Several bloodied handprints smeared the walls and a significant trail of drops lead to a large puddle of blood a few feet in front of her.  She reached behind her and gently tugged when her fingers caught Lucifer’s shirtsleeve.  He returned the papers he was reading to the pile and followed Chloe as she wandered through the hallway.

“Watch your step,” she said.  As she reached the opening at the far end of the hall, she found Ella, camera in hand, crouched over the body of a young woman, and Dan on the other end of the room.  Chloe looked around as Dan carefully navigated the overturned furniture.

“The entire apartment is a mess,” he stated as he reached the pair.  “The killer was obviously looking for something.  The victim is Donna Voight.”  Chloe stepped forward and picked up a broken picture frame from the floor.  “Twenty-nine years old, runs a daycare a few miles from here.”  He pointed to the picture.  “The guy is Alan, Donna’s husband.”

“Do we know where he is?” she asked.

“Hospital,” he answered with a slight nod.  “He walked in on the murder.”

“Did he now?” Lucifer asked with sarcasm as he slipped his hands into his pants pockets.  Dan nodded curtly.

“He’s the one that called the police.”  The devil rolled his eyes and stepped between the two detectives.  He moved across the room and stood over Ella as she documented the scene.  “Anyway,” Dan continued, “he’s at the hospital because the perp turned on him and he has several deep gashes on his arms.”

“Interesting,” Lucifer said sarcastically.  “Let me guess,” he said as he turned towards the pair of detectives, “he didn’t get a look at the murderer’s face because the murderer was wearing a black ski mask.”

“Um, yeah,” Dan answered as he scowled.

“Lucifer,” Chloe started slowly.  “How did you…”

“Look at the evidence, Detective.”  He moved to the other side of the body.  “Knife wounds,” he said, pointing downwards.  “Yet I don’t see any defensive wounds on her hands or arms.  Do you, Miss Lopez?”

“No, I do not,” she answered from behind her camera.

“Which would suggest that Donna here may have known her assailant; allowed this person close enough for a surprise attack.  Right, Miss Lopez?”

“Right, buddy.”

“Lots and lots of knife wounds,” he muttered as he looked at the body and shook his head.  “This wasn’t a random assault; this was personal.  Right, Miss Lopez?”

“Two for two, dude.”

“And the mess…”  He sighed as he gestured through the air with both arms out to his sides.  “I don’t think the bad guy was looking for anything.  I think the bad guy was pissed off.”

“He may be right about that, too,” Ella said as she stood.  “I’ve counted twenty-eight knife wounds on the body just in a quick once-over while I’ve been taking pictures.  I’m sure we’ll find a lot more during the autopsy.  It’s overkill.  Which,” she started, looking at Lucifer, “does suggest a crime of passion.  Well, not _passion_ passion, ‘cause this?”  She gestured towards the body.  “This is _not_ passionate.  At least not what _I_ would think about when I hear the word passion.”  She smiled.  “I imagine a nice, tall, good-looking man, muscly arms all wrapped around me and…”  Her smile fell as she looked around the group.  “TMI?”

“Little bit,” Chloe answered with a nod.

“At any rate,” Lucifer started, “I venture to say Alan came home, took out his anger on Donna and when that didn’t sate him, he tore apart the house.  Or he realized what he had done and did so to make this look like someone not him,” he said with a shrug. 

“And the wounds on his arm?” Dan asked.

“Self-inflicted,” he answered.  “Wat better way to deflect suspicion than to injure one’s self?”

“You didn’t see the cuts, Lucifer,” Dan started.  “They were pretty deep.  I don’t know that he could have done that to himself.  At least not to that extent.”

“Unless he was hopped up on adrenaline,” Ella suggested.  “It’s a powerful, natural drug.”  Lucifer tipped his head and placed his hands in his pockets.

“I’ve heard worse theories on a lot more evidence,” Dan offered after a moment.

“Me, too,” Chloe agreed.  “Call the hospital; we’ll head down there right now.”

“Got it,” Dan answered.

“Come on, Lucifer; let’s ask Alan some questions.”

“As to prove me right?  Absolutely.”  He smiled smugly and lifted a hand.  “Lead the way, my dearest detective.”

**Lucifer**

Throughout her career, Chloe had witnessed a gambit of habits people displayed while under her scrutiny.  People who were guilty, people who were scared or in shock, people who were mourning.  They bounced their legs; they played with rings and bracelets, toyed with necklaces and earrings.  They hastily drummed their fingers, sometimes their fists, on the tabletop, and their breathing became erratic and labored.  Their reveals were obvious.

Lucifer, however, was not as apparent.  He didn’t fiddle like everyone else.  True, he was rather vocal when it came to expressing his displeasure; yet when something seriously weighed heavily on his shoulders, and he didn’t quite know how to proceed, he remained quiet.  He didn’t say anything or give any clues about his silently contained concerns.  There was only one discernible sign of his uneasiness, something Chloe had observed on very few occasions, and only when she had purposely looked for it, a soft and slow rhythmic tap of his index finger on his thigh.  So when she slowed the car to pull into a parking space in the hospital’s lot, discretely shifting her eyes to look in his direction, she was not surprised to see his right hand resting on top of his leg, his finger gently striking out a measured cadence as he stared through the passenger window. 

Chloe wondered if anyone else had ever noticed this tick.  In all the years Maze had known Lucifer, had she ever taken the time to observe the small things?  During his therapy sessions with Linda, had she ever gained the opportunity to see him in that state of mind?  Maze was, self-proclaimed, quite oblivious to emotions and Linda, well, she supposed Linda looked more for the mental ticks than the physical ones.  No, Chloe decided; no one knew Lucifer’s tells as she did.

Yet as far was what was troubling him, as far as what was on his mind, she didn’t know.  And trying to piece together Lucifer’s concerns was difficult with her own worries over their kiss the previous night exploding into every thought she had.  What had she done?  What had she been thinking?  She should never have given in to the little voice in the back of her head; the little voice that, oddly, sounded like Lucifer.  The little voice that said, “Take what you desire.”  She should never have kissed him.

“That was, uh, quite a good detective moment, back there,” Chloe started as she turned off the engine and pulled the key from the ignition.

“Why, thank you.”  Lucifer turned towards her and offered a gentle smile.  “I know you don’t think I pay attention during our cases, but I really do listen to you, Detective.”

“I know,” she said, returning his smile.  His smile widened as he reached for the door handle.

“Then let’s go catch ourselves a bad guy!” he said excitedly.  Laughing softly, she shook her head as he leapt from the vehicle.  The smile on her face didn’t last long, though, as thoughts from the night before crept up again.  She was the one who had given the ultimatum, friends and partners, or nothing.  He had chosen friends and partners.  And she had stripped away his decision, negated it with one small action.  Chloe couldn’t let the guilt hang over her head; couldn’t let Lucifer think there were any more moments to be shared between them, regardless of how much she wanted them herself.

“Lucifer.”  He stopped and closed his eyes, waiting a brief moment after hearing the car door close before turning towards Chloe.  She stood near the front of the car, leaning a leg into the side.  Her eyes were down, focused on the keys in her hands.  Her finger fidgeted with the small pieces of metal.  “About last night…”  Her words faded as she gently shook her head.  He moved towards her and gently wrapped his fingers around her hands, stilling her movements.

“It can’t happen again,” he said quietly.  “I know.”  He brought their hands to his chest, hooking a finger under her chin in the process.  “Detective,” he whispered.  “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

“It was my fault,” she returned.  “I’m sorry.  We’re good like this, Lucifer.  Partners, friends.”

“We are,” he agreed.  As he sat on the hood of the car, sighing softly, sadly he transferred both of her hands to his left hand and rested the lot on his leg.  “I don’t want to lose you,” he said as he lifted his free hand to cup her cheek.  “I would rather have this than…than nothing.”

“Me, too.”  Lucifer offered a soft smile that quickly disappeared as his eyes dropped to his thumb as he traced the line of her mouth.  Her lips parted slightly as she closed her eyes.

“We have to find a way to handle this.”

“We will,” he said with an assuring nod.  “We will.  Come here.”  He stood and pulled her arms until they were around his waist.  “This is almost like the beginning of our partnership,” he stated as his arms tightened around her body and his chin settled on the top of her head.  “There’s simply one difference between then and now.”  Chloe shifted, placing her chin on his chest as she looked up at him.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“Well, in the beginning, _I_ was the one trying to get _you_ into bed.  Now, it’s all on you, Detective.”  Her cheeks reddened as he suggestively lifted an eyebrow.  “All on you.”  Chloe buried her face in the fabric of Lucifer’s shirt.

“Oh, I hate you,” she muttered.

**Lucifer**

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed as he studied the offensive item in his hands, the so-called “sandwich” Chloe had shared with him.  His mouth moved slowly around the bite he had taken, his taste buds trying to decide if he truly was eating turkey, as she had suggested.  Nearly choking on the flavor as he swallowed, he quickly set down the sandwich and reached across the table for the detective’s plastic bottle of water.  He sat back in the chair, slowly sipping the clear liquid as he watched Chloe.  She had eaten nearly all of her half of the sandwich, had eaten a few potato chips from the single-serving bag that sat on the table between them.  She quietly hummed a random string of notes as she looked through the financial reports Dan had collected for them.

Shifting slightly in the chair, he crossed his legs and rested his wrist over his lap, careful to let the condensation from the water bottle drip onto the floor and not onto his pant leg.  He lifted his right hand, holding it in front of his chest as he slowly shuffled the bottle’s top between his fingers.  His selfless detective, he thought, working through her lunch hour, sacrificing her time and opportunity for a decent meal to read a bunch of boring reports.  Sacrificing _his_ opportunity for a decent meal, as well.  With a soft sigh, he capped the bottle and reached for the sandwich.

“Another vending machine lunch,” he muttered around a second bite.

“It’s not from the vending machine,” she said with a soft smile.  “It’s from home.”

“Well, no offense, Detective, your sandwich making skills need some serious attention.”  She looked up from her papers as he took another bite.

“Trixie made it.”

“Oh.”  He hummed and offered a weak smile as he swallowed.  “That explains it.”  Chloe laughed gently and shook her head as she returned to the reports.  “Are you certain I can’t talk you into lunch out on the town?” he asked as he wiped the breadcrumbs from his lips.

“I’m sure.  There’s a lot to look at, Lucifer.  Sure would be nice if you would offer your help instead of lunch,” she mumbled purposely.

“Very well,” he said with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.  He popped the last bite of sandwich into his mouth and pulled the report from Chloe’s hands.

“That’s mine,” she stated.  He motioned to the small bag of chip and the remainder of her food.

“Thought we were sharing.”

“You know what to look for, right?”

“Do I know,” he started with a scoff.  “Of course I know.”  He made a great show of settling back into the chair, licking the tip of his index finger and flipping to the next page of the report.

“Your thoughts on the murderer were good,” Chloe started.  “Even though they were wrong.”  She smiled when he stuck out his tongue.  Yes, he had been wrong.  Alan had not murdered his wife, and he had been telling the truth about the attacker turning on him and slicing his arms.

“And for our trouble we get to look at all of this,” he added with sarcastic glee.

“Yeah,” she said as she pulled another report from the top of the pile to her left.  “But at least Alan and his wife had some of the research done already.  We should easily be able to pick up where they stopped.”

“Embezzling from a day care,” he muttered with a roll of his eyes.  “I can’t imagine the small amount of money available is worth the obnoxious amount of time a person would have to be around children.”  The silenced settled easily around them as they each turned their attention to their respective reports.  Lucifer’s attention did not stay on the numbers for long, however, wandering back to the detective after a very short couple of minutes.  Thoughts of their kiss had plagued him all night, all morning, and had attacked with twice as much force after their awkward moment in the hospital’s parking lot.  Even after his talk with Linda, after hearing himself say the words aloud, he still couldn’t escape the notions that floated through his mind.

It wasn’t as though he never thought about previous companions, never mentally replayed a pleasurable span of time together.  Never pondered what he was craving and who could fulfill those desires.  Never imagined what could become of another round of coupling.  Yet when he considered the two very brief intimate occasions he had shared with the detective, satisfied reminiscence didn’t show, simply heart-shattering longing.

And, yes, he had enjoyed the physical connection.  And, yes, he had looked forward to further exploration.  That type of gratification, however, was not the priority he sought.  He needed something more, something deeper than that.  Something he knew only she could provide.

Love.

He could admit that to himself now, without thinking the notion an abomination of the beautiful word.  He yearned for it, for a love pure and simple, a love he hadn’t felt since long before he fell from Heaven.  Yet with the good comparisons came the bad, for the love he knew the detective capable of bestowing was just as tainted by his father’s touch as the love he had in Heaven.

Still, just a thought, a single tempting moment would be all he needed to run to her, to throw all ideas of manipulation and injustices aside.  A single moment of taking her hand in his.  A single moment of tucking her hair behind her ear.  Of seeing her smile at him.  Seeing her blue eyes brighten in his presence.  Feeling those damn butterflies cloud his mind and block out all thoughts but those of her and—

“Rules, Detective,” Lucifer suddenly blurted.  “Perhaps we need rules.”

“Um, okay,” Chloe said with a nod.  “Sure.”  She turned her eyes to him.  “Quick question?”

“Mm?”

“What the _hell_ are you talking about?”

“Rules,” he stated, “for us.  To help define our…our partnership, our friendship.  So last night doesn’t…doesn’t happen again.”  She nodded slowly.

“Okay.  Well,” she started before releasing a quiet breath.  “We probably shouldn’t drink anymore.”

“Not drink?” he loudly questioned.  “We’re trying to create definition, Detective.”  He sat forward and dropped the report on the table.  “Not turn ourselves into monks!”  She laughed lightly.

“I mean when it’s just you and me.”

“Oh.  So if I were to, say, throw a big ol’ party at Lux?”

“Then we could drink.”

“Splendid.”  He smiled widely, but only for a moment before sobering.  “I suppose you and I should not be alone together otherwise.  Except during cases, of course,” he said, gesturing towards the reports on the table.

“No more celebrating wins in our cases.”

“Alone with alcohol.”

“Yes.”

“Can we celebrate in other ways?”  She hummed and tipped her head to the side.

“Not gonna lie; that sounds sketchy.”

“Dinner,” he said slowly.  “I meant by having dinner.  Somewhere public, of course.”  She nodded.

“But we meet there so we can leave in our own vehicles.”

“Or Uber it.”

“Right.”  She drummed her fingers on the table.  “And, uh, no…no flirting.”

“That goes for you, too, Detective.”

“I do _not_ flirt with you, Lucifer.”  He playfully narrowed his eyes.

“Are you certain about that?”  She narrowed her eyes in return and leaned an arm on the table as she slid slightly towards him.

“Quite certain,” she replied.

“Time will tell, won’t it?” he asked, copying her movement.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that over the next few days you’re going to find that our conversations will be extremely short and very limited to that of work.”  He leaned a little closer.  “Because you’ll not be able to get around not saying anything that isn’t flirting with me.”

“I’ll let you continue to think that,” she said with a smile.

“See?” he said, sitting back in his chair.  “We haven’t even officially agreed on the rules and you’re already breaking them.”

“What?” she laughed.  “How was that flirting?”

“Trust me.”  He pretended to adjust the cuffs of his shirtsleeves.  “It was.”

“Whatever.”  Chloe slowly slid back to her place, raising an eyebrow suggestively as she moved.

“There!  Right there!”  He pointed an accusing finger in her direction.  “You did it again!”

“On purpose this time.”

“I’m sorry; isn’t flirting usually done on purpose?”

“Huh.  Yeah, I suppose.”

“Mm.  Thought as much.”  He sternly raised both eyebrows.  “No flirting.”

“Fine.”  She tipped her head to the side.  “Okay, so no flirting.  No drinking when it’s just the two of us.  No celebrating cases when it’s just the two of us.  Basically, no just the two of us, unless it’s work-related.”

“Right,” he said slowly.

“Okay.”

“Detective?” he started quietly.  “Do you realize what we’ve done?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ve basically put ourselves in supervised visitation.”

“Yep.”

“Brilliant,” he muttered.


End file.
